C'mon and get down with that Artifacts sound Where kids get wreck and, the beat's bound to pound We're strollin through the industry B, see we gotta be the next shit that kicks, cause brothers ain't got it In this rap shit, ain't no time for the dilly-dally pally throw a match in the Gasoline Alley Blew up mad spots, kids were jealous for the props See the shit never stops Hobbes, just lookin for my dillz-knot Styles we make, never fake, broke breaks in every crate Old freestyles and dirty ass copied-over tapes Notified that, the Artifacts never slack While crews is on stage wack, we just play the back Now, the flip tripper ripper slits ya wit da mixture All crews, who never paid dues, watch it 'fore I get ya Cause nowadays, it's da ways, of the underground but they're wack now, so c'mon wit da git down
Chorus
Verse Two: Tame One
You know the stacks, if not, then ask some niggaz who heard of me The half on the Artifacts of Jersey Cause brothers be buggin not givin love to the nuccas Sayin fuck us, cause we be shinin brighter than the suckers Shootin me prison nobody listens to your dissin Cause yo my shit's legit and as a lyricist I'm hittin the high note, so why don't, I smile when I take pictures Cause now that I rock I got more niggaz on my jock than bitches I just wanna do my jams with fams and slam into some hypeness But biters and backstabbin rappers don't even like us But props due, peep The Source RapPages and the Billboard And read about the tours while you be flappin your jaws I freak techniques, cause talk is cheaper than beepers from Broad Street Punks talk junk, Tame and the Sensai leave em all beat So peep how deep my technique freaks and how my shit sounds C'mon wit da c'mon, git down wit da git down
Chorus
Verse Three: MC El, Tame One
Hold up, you rap sucker duck, buck, the track's rough enough to prove a point, that the niggaz is the joint Magazines where we're seen, now pop the tape in your deck I got the Heavy Ammunition cuz I'm Flexi Wit Da Tech Niggaz, can't believe the Artifacts acheive Got, tricks up my sleeve so bow down on your knees Yo, we ain't got the same lame, ordinary plain game Put to shame any crew who wants to feel the flame So bring submission to the rap recognition My right hand is itchin from the shit that I'm scriptin So pass the baton, to the next runner up, Tame I give a pound so, c'mon wit da git down
Aiyyo, word to my grandma's tampons, I drop bombs, but since our demo tracks had gaps some said my fat raps was half-assed Watchin others rock and clock we shocked em like a robot with our props, so now the Notty Head Niggaz got more knots yo My pockets are lumpy chump, my drunk style is trunky dunk My disc in crisp, put funk in funk like Humpty Hump Cuz I'm comin from the underground I'm down wit da git down MC's who used to diss us, get pissed cause they ain't shit now The Artifacts, represent on every stage we step on The days of gettin slept, are dead because we keep on peepin these weak MC's, who cheese with their bologny Cause they're phony as fuck, and couldn't pull shit off a tow truck So yo bro, now you know my flow so go and sit down or c'mon wit da c'mon, git down wit da git down