Lyrics:

DJ Unknown & DJ Mekalek ft. Main Flow, Louieville Sluggah, and Wordsworth - “Premier”



Main Flow: Platinum ice. Main Flow. DJ Unknown. Get your spot blown. Yeah. Listen, it’s like this
Louieville Sluggah: Yeah, yeah. Hennyville, Hennyville. B-to-the-K
Wordsworth: Worthsworth, Punchline, MOOD. Y’all know how we get down, yo. So, y’all, listen. We’re holding it down

Yo, I’ll rock
Biz in trolleys and puff collie with my man Kweli
Now need a Holly off a new Polly like Olly
It’s who you clock with
Let him choose peace, he probably like Judas Priest
Flow’s fine and blows mind. My clothes shine
Rose, climb, and throw dimes on clothesline
Go down Slum Village and Motown
, “OK, player” like flow brown
Connect though, rolling perfecto, select hoes
Feel that dough, sit back and watch the threat blow
freestyle bomb trains
(Uh) Right out of John Wayne
Blood’s spilling, rush villains. Too much dealings
Discuss feelings, trust killers. We’re gut-fillers
You know the lifey. Inside a tree, see wifey
No telling who might be sent to try to knife me
Grudge ringing. Now it’s forty-five the judge bringing
Some dealers love hanging, all types of drugs slanging
Camping, clique vamping up in the Hamptons
Lamping, selling more wax than Peter Frampton

'Peace to the hardcore niggas. Fuck the rest' - Sample from Buckshot on Black Moon - 'Powaful Impak!'

I can’t
Hear you, nor do I fear you
Running your mouth gets you fucking niggas knocked out
Or laid out for good on the block where he stood. Now he
Absent from the hood. Moms ask the boys
“Did somebody see him?” “Nope. And I
Wouldn’t want to be him.” Instead, I’m at the Knicks game
Kicking it with the GM, up all day
AM then PM, then PM to AM. Then
Somebody pay him. Then someone, somebody
Somebody pay him. So come while I spit this
Deposit, slip slick shit with my niggas and
God as my witness, so why would you risk it?
Hennyville still pack the biscuit, nigga
Tisket-tasket bastard, get your ass kicked
Nigga, dare y’all. Fuck with ‘Ville, clutch
Your steel. Yeah, bitch, what the deal? Shit
She got, nigga, it’ll get you clapped, leave ‘em
Like, “Who the cat with the wig pushed back?”
Nine lives, couldn’t even save the cat. He lost
Focus, hoping that me, ‘Ville from B-Ville
Get knocked down without making a B kill
Nigga, be real. ‘Ville make a G, kill

'Peace to the hardcore niggas. Fuck the rest' - Sample from Buckshot on Black Moon - 'Powaful Impak!'

Ayyo, I'm pissed, so here's a list of what I'm heated about
And many fear what's on my mind, leaving my mouth. You’re screaming
About (What?) fleeing from the D’s to be out. You ain’t
Got kis in your house. You got keys to your house. I ain't
Eating you out (Nope). All the top the cleavage is out (So?)
It ain’t my fault you hiding on your knees? You need to be out
Another thing: this was the track that I was dreaming about
You actually thought of pressing this up and leaving me out? You follow
While I'm leading the route. I'm playing
Jay-Z Reasonable Doubt. I-95, fleeing south
Promotions and big budgets all you need to come out
I’ll work to be the illest and that's not what it's even about
My girl swears she the queen of the house (So?). Overheard
Told her boss she plans to divorce and cleaning me out
When she bleeding, then she reefing about my boys keeping
Me out, but doesn’t cook or even clean up the house
Being my spouse, she could take the keys from her pouch
Scratch her name off the lease, grab a sheet, and sleep on the couch (Peace)
What’ll happen is I’ll stash cream overseas in accounts (So what?)
Tropical beach, ordering foods I can’t even pronounce (Uh huh)
Make sure the team has even amounts, leading shills in shares
Of stock until we’re millionaires and reasons will count
Now I got my foot in the door—ain’t no keeping me out (No)
The season we out of water, my flow will keep us from drought
My legion’s leading the lead. No leaking it out
No treason on the street, no strike three and we out
My reasons’ll reach every region I’m reading about
Procedures of a boxer speeding about to weave in and out
Plenty emcees are defeated for clout (And?) still saying
They never lost—I guess that’s what amnesia’s about
I can’t wait ‘til you’re deceased ‘cause you’re a leech and a slouch
Your tombstone, friends place wreaths grieving and pout
Family weeping in doubt. Now your soul is at peace
Underneath. The priest and the deacon is preaching about
I can’t remember everyone I meet or greet when I’m out
And gave birth to me, dealed the crack with. No need for doubt
It’s Wordsworth when I enter. Ain’t no need to announce
‘Cause Word’s worth tons of weight the scales could legally count
I didn’t achieve on the account of some weed or some style
The secret is out: simply ‘cause I breathe in and out