Lyrics:

Yo, yeah, uh**lf**Yo whattup?**lf**Yo, it''s the lyrical lexicon**lf**The matador of metaphor**lf**Mista Keith Murray**lf**Chillin'' with my nigga Funk Flex**lf**Word up**lf**Got the Squadron, word up**lf**Word up, check it out, check**lf**Now, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo**lf****lf**It''s the return of the lyrical lunatic, still kickin rough shit**lf**What you say? I slap your stink ass, bitch**lf**I shape and build my skill like an architect**lf**Teflon style, rhymes be Gortex**lf**I''m the highest exalted ruler on the mic with props**lf**All this over hippin the hop bullshit gon'' stop**lf**It beez Keith not Bill, Murray not Sweat**lf**Your politics be politically incorrect**lf**We keep it hot like sauce, flows be definite like well OF COURSE**lf**Def Squad cough a rough course**lf**You weak wack niggaz can''t do me none**lf**Five hundred, radiant height I run with the sun**lf**Apparently, you need to check my pedigree**lf**And do the knowledge to the S-C-I-E-N-C-E**lf**Fake ones fear it, real ones cheer it**lf**''Cause they all feel me from the womb of the human spirit**lf**With logic and reasons I justify my means**lf**See you on the scene, fuck you up like Tyson did to Mitch Greene**lf**In fact black yeah it beez like that**lf**If you kill my dog I''ma slay your cat**lf**The supersonical genitonical astrochronical**lf**Splatter crews, all you hear is ahhs and oohs**lf**Time to face the music bring you down to Earth like Papa Smurf**lf**I''m World Wide like on the Web, in your turf**lf**With full fledged raps packed with anxiety attacks**lf**For those who thought I wouldn''t be back**lf**With that bone chillin'' horror, killin'' all ongoin drama**lf**Save the rah rah for your mama**lf**Bragga-tocious, prone to static**lf**Come through the studio, wreck the mic by force of habit**lf**Tantalizing, make you feel good like crying**lf**I can''t be dissed, so you can stop trying**lf**And Keith Murray will prevail**lf**And you can eat a shit sandwich and go to hell