Danger - Intellectual

[Intro]

It's gonna be that, it's gonna be that shit

[Hook: Erick Sermon]

Lounge homeboy you in the danger zone

[Verse 1: Keith Murray]

Keith Murray is this mic psychosis

I break your best rapper off thousands of pieces

I'm on some other shit, splittin' wigs with my penmanship

Kickin' flows harder then the music

So feel in your head and chest then pass it to the next

They give it 5 mic checks and all due respect

So please fill it up and check the antifreeze

Cause this nigga Keith drop mad degrees

I launch tomahawk missiles when I talk

With promiscuous intelligence like Mr. Roarke

From New York into the world over

I walk MC's like Jesus walked on water

As my airy frequency reigns through the galaxy

I easily gets busy in phase 3

I'm the nicest MC on this side of the peninsula

Stalkin' the perimeter like a ninja

Cos it's danger

[Hook: Erick Sermon]

Lounge homeboy you in the danger zone

[Verse 2: Keith Murray]

The Def Squad MC's is shitters

On your neuro transmitters

None quitters, none forgetters

Runnin' deep like rivers (word 'em up) what is

My delivers, which is, givin' crews the shivers

I'm like a mad scientist with this son

I concoct some shit that'll bust the sun

I got the stunky funky illest funk flow

For the glamorous scandalous world of radio

So how you want it, head crack, trips or ceelo?

I gets root deep like cavity creeps

Rockin' motherfuckers directly to sleep

A tybarrious rebel without a pause

For the cause and no clause, style is the son of noise

Peace to the hardcore, the outlaw raw

Bug, young blood thugs, smoke a ounce a day to 64 ounce jugs

In the realms of the danger

[Hook: Erick Sermon]

Lounge homeboy you in the danger zone

[Verse 3: Keith Murray]

Bust the contrast and how I forecast

Supersonic hyper phonic goin' on that ass paragraph

With the million dollar bionic metaphorical lyrical math

Generating off the chronic

By cooling in the dark path and the drug wrath of the ath

And the ill shit that I craft

It's labeled as sick logic to the critics on the didicks

But they don't know the half of the half

The apparatus status of my madness is

I conjure up a new style puffin' ganja

Over the hook, causin' more trauma with my mouth

Then the stealth bomber killing every style in the book

Like it's goin' outta style tomorrow

My style is coming from down south and cross yonder

I drop the dope shit for masses of non-believers

Like spiral passes to butter finger wide receivers

As my photo type sound gays, leis and hoes, my style probe

To the farthest reaches of the globe

Payin' dues got me cockin' tools, you fuckin' fools

I'm rippin' crew and no exception to the the god damn rules

This is danger

[Hook: Erick Sermon]

Lounge homeboy you in the danger zone