[Chorus: *samples*]

"I throw ya' brain in the cobra clutch"

"Real- real- real motherfuckers better recognize real"

"A dazzling display if you can get close enough"

"We the- we the- we the rawest motherfucking clique in the field"

[Verse 1: Bender]

This is the jump-off, come on, let 'em faceplant the ceiling

Now raise hands like you're holding spray cans

It's fire for the breakdancers, graffiti writers, the beat designers

The emcees and the DJs, the heat suppliers

Yeah, the shit that we're flipping is wild

Building a pile of kids that mimic but still exhibit a limited style

Throw in the towel, we got 'em afraid to open they mouths to make a whisper

Putting they cribs on tape surveillance like I'm a lazy babysitter

Fact of the matter is we're quick to the punch

And catch daps in every city that you wish you were from

Last laugh we'll see who gets it once your gimmicks are up

When half-ass raps don't cut it and you're left in the dust

Hit of the palm with the ripple effect the minute we drop, yes

Giving a critic definitive image be spitting this intricate frost next

Finish 'em off, death one grip of the bomb that sits in my palm check son

The rhythm is slick it'll drip past the limits and odds leaving these heads stunned

So send us your best ones, if not then take a walk

We tightly tie the tongues together too twisted to truly taste or talk

It's FD, about to know it in a minute

Next up the cumulus head, exploding on your picnic

[Verse 2: Patience & *sample*]

This microphone sound current transmits to my wrists

Rapping immaculate accurate facts that'll fracture your back with a twist of my grips

This winter king's lifeblood could freeze most the Pacific

It's leaked open and given, my speech broach the specifics

I'm indifferent to your attempts at what you call hip hop

I'd like to see everyone getting their peaceful careers that all lift off

But since the Distance gives it a hundred and ten your cousins and friends will diss it

Bludgeon and covet it upwards and dozens of functions and fuckers would love to dismiss it

"What is it?" I'm not in a valid mood or phase of my life

They hand me a marker to write my rhymes I couldn't use as a razor or knife

Just playing his music like Suicide, I need fucking respect

I'm an actual pacifist activist that's had it up to his neck

Flight, like the phoenix we need it to trace the distance

Nights, in my dreams it's indecent we face the difference

Flight, you could deem it unequal we take the distance

Omnipotent English mastery casually trap what they say is wisdom

Daily faces' placement state my ways to face the grind of my sight

Feeling lies of mannequin adequacy that attack when I'm trying to write

Two emcees and one DJ, we're getting live for the night

So throw your headphones on no bed till dawn prepare for the ride of your life

[Chorus: *samples*]

"I throw ya' brain in the cobra clutch"

"Real- real- real motherfuckers better recognize real"

"A dazzling display if you can get close enough"

"We the- we the- we the rawest motherfucking clique in the field"