Lyrics:

Verse One: Malik B

Yo, Im every MC, its all in me
Thats the way it is, when ya gotta be
Indeed as I distort I proceed, I need
Gettin hotter than sacks of boom, in my room at the Ramada
Four tanks in your memory banks to fill up
I provide the static, with scratch to match, while you catch the vibe
Most can play high post, but yo that dont mean shit
Because my clickll make a motherfucker sick
I flips, redder than pork, comin to New York to mix
[Its Bob Powers] With the snares and kicks to fix
Rhythmatically, you got ta be, static-y
Magiccally I appear, spark a L and drink a beer
With air smooth, takin niggaz loot with dice
then shoot The Roots, poetic, courageously kinetic
Vagabond, versatile and various, plus rap styles
of mine are blunt, pain is in the mind, so Im fine and five
Foot seven, inches in height
My mission to strike mics and lighten your tights
Ridin in, like lightning
Flourescent, incandescent, evervescently
I represent, Foreign Objects and Ill Elements
Very relevant, plus intelligently managin matter
thats makin tracks fatter, revolve around
Saturn like rings and brins swings when I sings with bass
Then distort up in your face like mace
Bustin your dreams, I gasp with loaded magazines
Im on the rap scene, re-color fellas like a vaccine
As I, rocks from under blunderin Im not, lyrically
Ya getm, shot, get caught so distort with thought, for real
Its the illest out the Phi, short for Philidelph-iada-fly
Money makin move fakin I isnt
Niggaz can nah front, Im poetically exquisite
Wicked, with the visit while youre wonderin what is it
Dig it, yo my mellow um whattup for the night
[Malik B, get on the mic, get on the mic]
Like that yall, and yo Im flowin, my part of the song
Its goin, its goin, its gone

Verse Two: Malik B

Now, go get your dictionary and your Pictionary
Cause much affliction with my diction friction slips and carries
Words and hers like some cattle in the steeple
People, theres no equal, or no sequel
SO policies, of equalities, get abolished
Demolished, distortion of the statics gettin polished
Urges of splurge and words will just be merged
Together, damn its quite clever, however
You never, can sound alike, lyrics dont be poundin like
These, troops, who bes, Roots
Insult ya, mellow of culture, rhythmatic vulture
Approach ya, with Magnetic shit thats Ultra
I make MCs dangle like a bangle
Strangle from every angle, my lingo hingles and it jangles
under Kangols, nahh them niggaz dont want to tangle
Cause Roots get loose, negroes get juiced like the mango
To be particular, extra-curricular, for pleasure
Measure, in any weather, value more than the treasure
Baby, you say you maybe, then come in to flex
Now you wonder whats next