Back is the incredible O-R, G-to-the-A N-I, Z-E, D with a K O-N-F-U-S-to-the-I-O-N
Verse One: Prince Poetry
Emerging up, to another level, there I stand Hand to hand rap combat black Back in the land I expand data for the wack leaving multilated bodies lacerated limbs grim sites And new jacks, pick up six and grab the ore Dig deep into the ghetto (absorb) I take you to a new realm Levitating above the norm anticipating me to pick up seven more new jacks and commencing with others fading (so how dare you question) The original aborigine In the vicinity the city's committing consider me The trilogy of terror, whatever I do I bring light You're blinded by the glare of the trendsetter Beware when I strike, blueprints like no other The soldier of fortune, the undercover Rebel of rap attackin the ones who's attackin blacks I'm on a mission of peace, I make tracks Elevate with the almighty God in front of me Teach seeds in the hood the truth, the wannabe competitor will have no other choice but to surrender Can't stand the pressure, the extinction agenda
Chorus: repeat 2X
The Extinction Agenda, hah! The Extinction Agenda, uhh. The Extinction Agenda, uhh The Extinction Agenda, uhh
Verse Two: Pharoahe Monche
I'm the poetical poltergeist I heist tracks from the past
And return em to the present time in rhyme form What was once dead is now resurrected on the record And the physical words are mere residuals for my bidding For my disposal to dispose of... who are you kidding Nightfall, I stop the rook, then I'm looking for the original book which contains the words of God Six hours until dawn, my quest to capture the queen without being seen by the pawns Call me Bishop, bishop takes rook, rook takes pawn pawn takes knight, knight takes queen Queen takes the original King James version I'm surgin up when I'm emergin False clergymen you're urgin me to call you a virgin wind to save the lease Who can you trust when a priest is now the beast? (who? what? why?) I'm the assassinator of rap Hit rip rhyme rap ritual hit you with my best shot Get you sit you down, let you know I never get dropped When I flip-flop hip-hop, when I wreck shop (nigga) I move, with the finesse and the smoothness Even inside of the grooves of a record, check it Check it again, check it again, check it again Check the metaphors, make sure they're making sense and then Gimme one-hundred percent credit Let it, medi-tate, in your brain, like a seda-tive I said it and I read it twelve in your bloodstream Let it live The verses of curses that burst in the face of the first time offenders In the realm of the extinction agenda