Released on February 28, 2001

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[Verse 1: Mr. Lif]

I've got two underpaid educators on the faders

Mad about the salary of baseball players

A nation of thugs waving guns at the mayor

The meek on they knees, cold prayin' for savior

Enabled to outlast disease that plagues ya

Scientists with remedies, save 'em for later

"In God We Trust," written on the paper

Which soon will burn, as humans learn

To upgrade, advance

But wade, too far in the waters of chance

Stress reaches up to the heavens, its arms

Take the form of nuclear bombs

And when they weary, they drop and crush theory

Laying to waste everything you held dearly

Death is nearin', at this point you see clearly

United through peril, just scream if you hear me


[Verse 2: Murs]

Come likeI here'say

Ain't nobody comin' this fed

Could've went, got some sleep, but got keyed instead

So the organs that I use to breed are now bred

Cigarettes to the head, chillin' on the balcony

With some fly shit on hand, like I practice falconry

I'm out to be (4... 3... 2...) one of the best, you know

Murs plus a mic? Fuck the sum of the rest

Now a gun and a vest? Heh heh

Might protect you from takin' one in the chest

But it can't protect you from this Legendary crew that's runnin' the West

I make you want to invest in the shit that we've made

I give a damn what you made fuckin' with E-Trade

'Cause when the beat's laid, the hardcore becomes priceless

So righteous Doctor Teeth put the rock in concrete

The stock on Wall Street, the knock on the beat

You couldn't run a close second with some clocks on your feet

Not jocked in the street, but respected at the bank

Unsigned and Hella Broke – think it is when it ain't, bitch


[Verse 3: El-P]

"Ugh... baby... the other OTHER white meat..."

Who radio reacts with a version of a perfect attack

"Hi, my name is Jaime Meline, you might recognize me

From such magazines as White Inches

And such films as Kick the perpetrator new jack in his talk box

And bounce from the set like time bandits"

Dwell in the cracks of the asphalt to design famine

If I combine the dirty works of content in a bent drum pattern

Where each snare here is a snapshot of a broken city children

Building jails out of commotion and metal Legos – c'mon man!

That's a kick drum for the homeless, a gunshot for the system

Position in the totem is low

A Fahrenheit today to sweat bullets

The cops will sodomize you like Jim J. Bullock

And lick Billy Blanks at ya ass on some bullshit

"Get in my belly!"

Humanity makes the pellets that swim like the blade through gut jelly

So what the fuck can you tell me?

So what on God's Earth do you think you can sell me?


[Scratch Break: Mr. Len]

"I got some good shit to tell you tonight, brothers and sisters..."

"Brothers and sisters..."


[Verse 4: Eligh]

Syncopated to the third degree, highest motion felt by man

Dropping through the bars from the fingers

In the back of the brain, they linger

Maintain with the most devotion, scientific and vocal portion

Full-position dynamite, couldn't have rocked on a finer night

Universe in a fire fight, me against the world tonight

Woes, negative, positive balance and flows

Holds, like in an upper color, swallowing pride

From the first time that I tried

Might have been the first time that I died

'Cause I know now that I'm a mad scientist

Eyeing formations from the top of skyscrapers

That dwells within my craters

Now it's dark and I'm in the park with a marker and a telescope

In hopes to find a universe I fit in

Bidding Earth good riddance, forever after

Chuckling, your human science gives me laughter

Knees buckling, under the pressure of these energy masters

Smothering you bastards... actin' so plastic...


[Verse 5: BMS]

Drop this shit for the head, ten-low, chemo

Emcees hope we won't

Co.Flow, Living Leg' collaboration

We keep our world spinnin' like innovation

All shall awaken

Nigga, I don't move or hover

Maybe you've got something to prove

But anything you've got – covered

Couldn't picture this with an Olympus

Infinit' Stylus, I'm epic

B.M.S. – damn right, set it

Damn right, when it comes to the mic

Audio flows and any motherfucker can get it

Murs, Scarub, and Eligh

Mr. Len, Mr. Lif, El-P, and I

Please don't attempt to adjust the dial

We like to fuck with what you reset

What you percept

There's no ways to protect

True disconnection formed this step to intervention

Wherever we from, whatever we've done

However, we some

Emcees, we from

Wherever we from, whatever we've done

However, we some

Emcees, we from


[Interlude: LL Cool J sample, scratched by Mr. Len]

"Playing MC's like an old accordion"


[Verse 6: Scarub]

My time is slim, it ripples like tight skin over rib cages

Where I'm from, the powers that be got us livin' like dogs

Chasing our tails three-hundred and sixty degrees

Going nowhere, blinded by the glare of the green

Not talking weed, I'm talkin' dollars

Dictating your every move on this planet

It's a life-long race from start to finish

A competition where many win and many more get deminished

A selected few cross through, a checkered flag for the first of 'em

Those who come in first place, just had more thirst in 'em

A little bit more burst in 'em, but peep out the catch

We're all living in this pole position

Some are just more focused to win and acquire the things that glisten

While others get left in the dust, miles away

Facing the opposite position, pissing their lives away

So, my time is slim

My... my time is slim (Uh-huh...)

My time is slim... (Okay)


[Outro: KRS-ONE sample, scratched by Mr. Len]

"I just laugh!" "I just laugh!"

"No one can defeat me!"

"No one can defeat me!"

"I just laugh!" "No one can defeat me!"

"I just laugh!" "I just laugh!"

"No one can defeat me!"

"No one can defeat me!"

"I just laugh!" "No one can defeat me!"