«So fuck the commercial tracks you be doin, A brother got to eat. Why don’t you rap for food then».
[Deacon and Kno exhanging verses * = Kno rapping]
[Deacon] The music makes me high Even though I stay away from canibus, like Wyclef *Deacon and Kno, fry sets.* Similar to Christ, *We got divine reps so tell me* If you know your gonna die *why step?* Show no mercy *For rules and crews* You hit with more bricks than new ? *Riddles confusing fools,* like Confucian rules *Cos most cats are more squared than Rubik’s Cubes* We spit raps that are totally murderous *The rhymes are like an anaconda serpent clutch* So check out how these herbs get touched *Unless your broads giving us brains* Nigga you ain’t servin us *Deacon and Kno,* cunning lynguists with stunning English *Our true lies bring more pumps* than Harry Rehnquist *Every week* with the best speech Roll with cats who smoke more trees than the flash and burn techniques *Sex, beats, between bed sheets* Red fleets, Pulp Fiction style *leaving your car with red seats* We make like fly swatters and smash pests *Put peeps under more pressure than a Kelly Price bed set* Keep your bodies looking like samples for the Rorscach Test *Ink blots,* so fuck around and get your team rocked *Jugga’s in the back with the beam cocked* Gots to have everything between L.A. and Queens locked
Uh huh, word, uh huh word, yo yo, check it out Cunninlynguists, know what I’m saying? You know how we do I mean, you probably don’t know how we do But you’re about to find out. Like wha, like wha…