[Verse 1]

Off the chain like Django. On your toes like tango

Rap so sweet, these niggas get mixed with mango

Take yo’ M-utha F-uckin’…

Slow flow—won't rush ours like Chris Tucker

Won’t cuff her. Don’t need her. I be the

New Joe Cool. No need for heat seekers

Who want dude? No pleas. Just please be gone

While I speak on—

Relax, put feet on

The track. No refunds

In fact, it’s free. Come

Sit back and breathe some

Relax. Just breathe, son

Inhale, then exhale

Repeat ‘til you believe it’s second nature

Then embrace it and just wait for what awaits

And as the pace starts to quicken

You’re soon aware that you’re living and you’ve been given the rhythm to function—

Strange sort of seduction

So take it the way that it comes to

You. You won’t regret it

But you might not even get it

[Hook]

Preme on the track, Dot with the pen;

Watch out, ‘cause them boys at it again

So come on

A-Dot rhyming, Preme quantizing

Fuck boys hate ‘cause they stars’ not rising

We know

[Verse 2]

It’s A-Dot—won’t be no confusing what I be doing with rap

It’s similar to what Preme be doing with tracks

So it’s actually symbiotic

Like Snoop and Dre with The Chronic

Or getting hooked on to phonics

The manic semantics couldn’t be deciphered by Mannix

I plan, plot and exam it

It’s hot—fuck it—so fan it

I hand it to you with pleasure

I do it because I’m better

But also because I love what it does

When you get a buzz it’s above being just words

It’s heard

Interpreted by the brain and processed;

Created in my image like God, but godless

Not saying I’m God. Let’s

Not play with the gods, just

I pray that it’s harmless

Just harder to digest

If you got it, you got fed. If you didn’t, just skip back

Got problems? Well, I said what I said, and I meant that

If you got it, you got fed. If you didn’t just skip back

But you might not even get it…

So, let me explain what I’m saying:

Since we can’t see God, we have to see It in us

If we’re made in That image, then That’s what

We perceive what we know to be true, and it’s abstract

God thinks, so we are. I rap, and that’s That

Now, back to creating life in the void

Where there’s no things:

Compare it to my voice, and the irony won’t seem that ironic

I mean, I speak, and it’s here, and you can feel it

But you might not even get it

[Hook]

Preme on the track, Dot with the pen;

Watch out, ‘cause them boys at it again

So come on

A-Dot rhyming, Preme quantizing

Fuck boys hate ‘cause they stars’ not rising

We know

[Verse 3]

They call me Preme—won't be no confusing what I be doing with loops

It’s similar to what Dilla do in the booth:

A symbiotic amalgam like Spike & Denzel in Malcolm, or maybe Mo’ Better Blues

I make it, I send it, he spazz on it. We never lose

The end result is immaculate lyrics and clever tunes

Together fused—we clever dudes

Give ‘em that Hip-Hop they never get to see

I put them letters together. Call me “Elemino-P”

So you can take yo’ G-od D-amnit

Wack flow and wack beats back to yo’ seat. Granted

You never plan on handin’ ‘em to Preme & Dilla—

Real killas licensed to ill, and specialize in leaving beats damaged

Flip that…

Let me switch the plot to a different topic

Niggas know how I give it up. I'm philanthropic

It's all a scheme. Rappers try’n’a cause a scene

Picture these peasants and coon niggas try’n’a serve me like I'm Paula Deen

It won’t happen. It’s all a dream. No Martin King

My mission is to live out them visions that Martin seen

Ain’t try’n’a entertain you niggas like a “Martin” scene

I’m just try’n’a live my life and find out what tomorrow brings

I’m Hannibal with this bars and schemes. Try to spar with Preme

I'll eat your liver with Chianti and some fava beans

Leave you lambs silent when it's time to spit it

Still, you might not even get it. Get it?

[Hook]

Preme on the track, Dot with the pen;

Watch out, ‘cause them boys at it again

So come on

A-Dot rhyming, Preme quantizing

Fuck boys hate ‘cause they stars’ not rising

We know