(Babu) "Filthy--filthy from the ground on up" 3x "Filthy--filthy--filthy...."
[Encore] Steppin into the next level Adjacent to my main man leavin, uneven steps amongst the wasteland Kickin joints wit ballpoint pestilance Takin you through desolate zones through mic-phones Wit eyes like that of a cyclone So it don't matter what pad you write on You better off writin home to ma duke ? jukes loose like the sweetness On some devious, distinguished, verbally leaders
[Evidence] Yo treat us wit respect, for the boomerang effect Is in existence, don't get too close, I keep my distance For instance, the clones who put out records for loanes And gassed egos and videos rhymin on phones Blue and yellow make green, I'm airtight I write wit stocktips on black with off-white I'm good wit secrets, but with lighters, never trust us Cat who's forever in debt to Blockbusters
"Filthy--filthy from the ground on up" "Encore" "Evidence, I'm bringin it" "Filthy--filthy from the ground on up" "When I plan my attack, I doubt that you're ready"
[Evidence] Yo sharp and precise, lays a gamma knife To your mental, fry your brain to vegetables for Emeril Cook the hot shit, armlock the drop kick The Main Event, Work The Angles, Triple Optic Evidence, more loosely to the fact Yo I gain self-esteem by esteemable acts Back wit the axe and slice tracks in half Slice you down to particles, yo shorty get the mask Feel the bass at your feet, the treble's at your face Yo Kurt EQ's the midrange to wrap around your waist Yo I blow spots hot, volcano lava rock Molten metal, full throttle on the pedal *tires screech* Create, hit the weed, cover a song Is how rappers get down and the reason shit is wrong Those who wear out the welcome to me are straight femmes Name is Evidence in English, and Evidence in French I get filthy!
"Filthy from the ground on up" "Evidence" "Encore" "I keep it hotter than the next" "Filthy--filthy from the ground on up" "When I plan my attack, I doubt that you're ready" "Filthy from the gr-gr-ground on up" "Encore" "Wit Evidence and Babs" "Filthy--filthy from the ground on up" "When I plan my attack, I doubt that you're ready"
[Encore] Wit each speed I explore Still shitty metaphore an' 'Core keeps you open like a door picked wit the porchnit Bring like heroes to courtship, I treat it like a cheap trick Hit it raw dog, abort the kids whotry to be us See this camp ain't for you champ Don't understand how these rappers get pampered By lazy asses, abusin food stamps They tossin shit like loose scrap Dudes rap, get used once, too many bodies on em, anybody want em? If so, come in, plummet to the depths of the soul No evidence of rest, impressin, it's just breath control Black as coal, ?provomic? diamond studded See verbally I'm iced down, too heavy and sharp to lug it Yo hip hop's lone Rolling Stone wit no known offspring so Biters are bastards, clones get played like The Masters After bust, then Ev hook the beat up To Roc like Raida, wit face that's E'd up To futuristic gift of glock lasers, top praises as I set it Dunns get stunned wit phonetics Hey, my taser weighs a ton (Yo make em run, 'Core) What for, they'd rather stand still They still feel the cold kill up in 6-1-thrill, still filthy
"Filthy from the ground on up" "When I plan my attack, I doubt that you're ready" *both lines 3x* "Filthy from the ground on up" *cut and scratched to end* "Yeah baby, yeah" [Austin Powers]