[Intro]

Micro-mic-pho-phone-microphone killa

Mic-i-i-mic-i-i-mic-i-i-mi-microphone ki-ki-ki-killa

Micro-mic-micro-microphone killa

Microphone killa

[Verse 1: Ill Bill]

We tour the world like Guns N' Roses in their prime

Livin' the lifestyle of a rockstar but we rhyme

Lyrically we murder MCs, my words are grenades

Adjectives are shotguns, my verse is surgical blades

Sittin' sizzle like menaces to society

And since society has brainwashed, redefined me

Spark a revolution up while we sparkin' the bush

Legalizin' medication were the doctors of kush

Shamans who smoke sparkin' up the magical herbs

Slaughterin' these wack MCs while the botanicals burn

It's like a ritual or sacrifice

Death the false hip-hop, spit a verse, smoke a spliff it's a fact of life

It's a never ending supply, homie, pack the pipe

Showtime in fifteen, we gon' make it crack tonight

Another sold out show, homie, it's packed tonight

Fuck around another whack rapper gettin' smacked tonight

[Chorus: 1-Ton]

(Die!) MCs get fucked up

(Die!) M-M-MCs get fucked up

(Die!) You don't want none, MCs get fucked up

(Die!) You don't want none, a microphone killa

(Die!) MCs get fucked up

(Die!) M-M-MCs get fucked up

(Die!) You don't want none, MCs get fucked up

(Die!) A microphone killa

[Verse 2: UnderRated]

Yeah, I'm tight when I recite and I got the right flavour (Yeah!)

I strike like I'm a knight with a bright light saber

I'm the kike on the mic I'll end the life of a hater (Yeah!)

No one can do it greater then your neighbour in Arcata (Haha)

Yo, I be the illest homie, I smoke and get all stoney

I'm high your way below me, that's why she's tryna blow me (Ay!)

I spit it sicker, kill an MC quicker (Yeah!)

No MC slicker trick ya like a flea flicker (Pow!)

I can do anything if you want me demonstrate, I can take and eliminate everybody in the buildin' (Woo!)

I'm killin' the microphone every time I recite though, if you want me to battle then hide the women and children

Spit it all day 'til my face bright red, I'm a little white bread

I'm a little white boy like Bill and Ted (Yeah)

Excellent with the flow 'til the mic is dead (Sorry!)

Everybody dies, never waking up like Frankenstein

I'm the one that they love when I spittin' rhyme

MCs better run, I'll rip out your spine (C'mon, boy!)

I'm the best, best believe when I flow that I know I'm fresh

I'ma go to the limit, never give it a rest

Nobody can do it like me and I'ma leave you in a bloody mess

[Chorus: 1-Ton]

(Die!) MCs get fucked up

(Die!) M-M-MCs get fucked up

(Die!) You don't want none, MCs get fucked up

(Die!) You don't want none, a microphone killa

(Die!) Micro-mic-pho-phone-microphone killa

(Die!) Mic-i-i-mic-i-i-mic-i-i-mi-microphone ki-ki-ki-killa

(Die!) Micro-mic-micro-microphone killa

(Die!) A microphone killa

[Verse 3: 1-Ton]

My flowin' skills is cold as ice like playin' blades of steel

I spit the raps that slap, homie, that's how I pay the bills

Locked up for twenty five to life for all them stages killed

I keeps it real (Uh-huh?), do everything I say I will

Some rappers swear they homies turn around and play me ill (What?)

Nevermind, sorry for ya time, we gonna make it still (Why?)

This is hip-hop, this is how I really feel (Ay!)

Trendsetter with skills way before our record deal ([?])

1-Ton is in the buildin' party like my birthday (Hey, whaddup!)

Get drunk and look for women who get naughty on the first day

Ya know the beats is knockin' love my flow and word play (Whaddup?)

When you turn your speakers up it's like a California earth quake

It's not a game, it's not a joke, I don't fuck around (Naw!)

You'll never bring me down, you can never take the crown (Hey, whaddup?)

I'm rhymin' and smokin', runnin' through a whole pound

Too fat to run a lap, instead I run the whole town

[Chorus: 1-Ton]

(Die!) Micro-mic-pho-phone-microphone killa

(Die!) Mic-i-i-mic-i-i-mic-i-i-mi-microphone ki-ki-ki-killa

(Die!) Micro-mic-micro-microphone killa

(Die!) A microphone killa

[Verse 4: Slaine]

I hit the rock bottom and bounce like a trampoline

Walk these mean streets, boppin' with my vigilante lean

I'm too dirty for radio, but fuck 'em all, I can't be clean

Senses just can't handle me, so offensive when I'm channeling

This is insanity, my breath is like an amputee panhandling

Buy a tan boutique while I scam two freaks, goddamn man I'm rambling

But I'm in too deep and I can't turn back 'cause I burnt that bridge that I woke up on

Fucked up drunk smoking OG kush with a OG bitch and my soul feels torn

I got stupid hoes with dope habits and boosted clothes

I got a mixed up past, I moon pass with my voodoo's flow

I'm sayin' you should know, get broke for your wallet, dude

All your loot, this isn't at all a fluke, call the troops

Blah de blah, nah de dah, but you ain't in the middle of nobody, nah

You gonna turn up dead, but your legs in your bed and your head down in Mardi Gras

Hidey-ha, you talk like a G but we see that you highly odd

Nah, be that dude, believe that's true, but who's the killa, me or you?

[Chorus: 1-Ton]

(Die!) MCs get fucked up

(Die!) M-M-MCs get fucked up

(Die!) You don't want none, MCs get fucked up

(Die!) You don't want none, a microphone killa

(Die!) Micro-mic-pho-phone-microphone killa

(Die!) Mic-i-i-mic-i-i-mic-i-i-mi-microphone ki-ki-ki-killa

(Die!) Micro-mic-micro-microphone killa

(Die!) A microphone killa