Ingredients To Time Travel

(sound of Keith Murray intro from Mary J. Blige Whats the 411 tape
which I could swear has been set to B.I.G.s 'Who Shot Ya' based on
the sound of the beat (Artifacts assure me that this is Mary J. Blige))
'My subliminals, mixed with criminal chemicals
Got more mily syllables than alphabet cereal...'
*car door slams*
Tame: I gots ta get this bag of bam ba zi, **** this!
'You know who the **** I am so get off that old bullshucks!'
--> Redman (scratched sample)
'He aint * ***, you aint ****, your momma aint ****, daddy aint ****'
--> Redman (scratched sample)
(Tame One)
If I had it my way, every wack MC would die Friday
Makin Saturday a better day
Sunday wouldnt start your week off til Monday
One day tunes I wrote yesterday will be tomorrows scriptures for today
At high noon , Boom Skwad Gods with knowledge
Holler at apostles, who squalor in despair, despisin those who follow
Swallowin pride like St. Ides while you stare... take a drink
Dont think in a eyeblink I wont start my hijinks
and hijack a flight (Yeah right, when?)
Tomorrow night, cause off the record with the treble and the bass
I chase my lyrics through the rap race
Last place is simply not an option in my case
Waste not want not because I front not
The Notty keeps his lyrical shotty cocked
and locked up at your temple, over instrumentals
('Its all in your mind ') you No. 2 like the pencil
The Boom Skwadron, Godson, who got the Bop Gun
The top gun, from the jump like Datsun
I got one, candy-coated rote rhymes skits I **** on when I get on
Then flip the scripts like I had Zips on
Its on like electrical, my symmetrical
alphabetic keeps my competition ridin on my testicles
('he aint ****, you aint ****, aint nobody ****')
You to the rescue, let me test you
Who the best crew, most definite
has to be the Skwad cause Im the President
All you misrepresenters with your twelve inches need pinches
Wake the **** up and check out what this is
('he aint ****, you aint ****, your momma aint ****, aint nobody ****')
I cant see nuttin but victories
MCs think they can get to me, then bring it
Cause once I pass the blunt to my Lieutenant then we in it
For the infinite, no play play
The notty headed Newark ***** from NJ and the Sensai
represent fully, playin bullies out for yappin
Thinkin youll be rappin, get tapped and say you scrappin
While I been waitin hatin fake MCs that make they bacon
with passion, rippin up they stickers for reaction
Practicin on rap has-beens, Im down with the Biz like Backspin
Dissin Mikes like the Jacksons
Thick like the lips on that Fugee chick
Hard like the ****s in booty flicks
Dissin ****** like a snooty ***** (trick)
I only pop a coochie if it smells Gucci
Get the lucci hit it for months and then smoke blunts with the hoochies
('Whats the flavor Dunn' - Tame)
You know the flavor like blue cheese
on how I make crews bleed and school MCs who try to do me
('He aint ****, you aint... ahh ************')
'Do me baby, do me baby '
('he aint ****, you aint ****...')
'bom ba zi, it aint over ************s'
('He aint ****, you aint ****')
Outro: Rhino CMZ
75% water, H2O, PE, alcohol, oil
Dependin on temperature, whats the hot ****?
Rhino, Tame, Boom Skwad, Hidden Descent
INI, Reflections, check the Twins
Aight God, recognize whats fake
Time to turn platinum to purple chrome
Green purple yellow red white chrome