Kenny Diaz ft. Pyramindz ft. Paragraphics and Reddawn - “No Room”

[Emcee(s): K-Strong (of Paragraphics), Matrix, Son of Spock (AKA Jedi Bateria), and Oblivent]

[Producer(s): Kenny Diaz]

[Verse 1: K-Strong (of Paragraphics)]

Personificate lyrical styles, articulate

Subtract from the fake, feeble minds disintegrate

Dialate, D’s possess my state of mind in a metropolis

Rotten as hell, verbs connect, niggas is watching us

Tune in on your frequency modulation.  I write

Rhymes with admiration, precise accusations, facing

The galaxy, mental incarceration, nasty

My disposition’s like sanitation, won’t have

You waiting. By now, you know my occupation, and fuck

Commercial-ass raps that get played on stations. I’m sub-

-terrain, niggas, y’all can’t dig me with a shovel. You could

Front on airplay, but, yo, I still blow your bubble, tap

Your cabbage with the mathematics, lyrics disasterous, mind

Causes catastrophe, niggas don’t want no part of me

I’m never ordinary rhyme, it’s something like potassium

We burst the diaphragm, my speech is ill—no need for asking him

Ill as this in your respiratory. In this vicinity

Intellectuality collides with polarity

To make a man in me, slowly losing my sanity

Or can it be that niggas ain’t ready for the potencies?

[Verse 2: Matrix]

I’m totally opposite from you same-sucker cyclones

Artificial legacies, you don’t impress me

I refuse to be your customer, and I’m not gonna buy

Your shit for a half-a-second, you’re a half-assed discount

You amount out to no cents. You tried to add tax

But that’s just additional nonsense. Kill the act

Get in conscious, face the facts: you, your concepts in raps

Are purchased, but your shit still ain’t worth it

I possess unlimited percentages, so you

Sons of rejects have respect for your elders

I’m the advanced adult, you’re the simpleton sibling

With no identity, yo, meaning mimicking is what you’re

Portraying, so before you raise your voice to me

Think not once but twice and change your choices, see?

There’s no room for those who can’t move a crowd

(Aha, hit ‘em one time, go in)

[Hook: Matrix]

There’s no room for those who can’t move a crowd. I knock

‘Em down ‘cause I ain’t proud with what they stand for

I give ‘em all I got, yet they still want more

Fuck these niggas who want more (Paragraphics, Reddawn, and Pyramindz, what?)

There’s no room for those who can’t move a crowd. I knock

‘Em down ‘cause I ain’t proud with what they stand for

I give ‘em all I got, yet they still want more

These niggas want… (Pyramindz, Paragraphics)

[Verse 3: Son of Spock (AKA Jedi Bateria)]

All you

Rappers accuse actors of talking shit and acting more

Dramatic than violins alone with your pianolist pulling

Your strings, but this ill lyricist Pyramind kid will end this

Fiction music and abuse your mental like kids at carnival

My books is scriptures, articles, pages that ancient, and chapters

Soon, lyrics add up into novels, which explains aspects

Some flee, most concepts all in experience

Which must be a conspiracy that you emcees wanna go against me

But giving me too much information, so you’re aiding your enemy

This wise man don’t brag or boast about his plans. I just scan

To reach mankind, but their lyrics and language sort of

Similar to cavemen who are uncivilized. I minimize

Information similar to your wages. I got more patience than a

Christian waiting for the Pope’s arrival. I’m liable

To any access with a mic over my head like it’s Bible

My title is R-E-double-D-A-W-N

You couldn’t dodge the fifth apocalypse with lyrics

As bullets that sever, I’m coming in all angles

Counterclockwise and chronological order

[Verse 4: Oblivent]

You play that sideline from tipoff to halftime or

Sit as a spectator, hoping to see celebrities

Comedians and other types of entertainers, hoping to build

Popularity fast from fans just off an autograph, but you

Work with a half-assed staff who had you approach coke. I wrote

With the first-class. You have a nowhere career and wish you were near

An atmosphere, overpopulated star neighborhood

Censors are coming for Hollywood, your high hopes subpoenaed, B-roll

In a double feature, but you oughta been cast as an extra to stand in a crowd

[?] no footprints or stars on a Hollywood walk

Also, no late-night shows ‘til twelve. From Hall of Fame to Hall of Shame

And now you punch clocks to buy shirt, socks, stuffy shirts

Spliff and sack in that hatch to your occupation of every day cleaning crock

And I assume you’re a costume in a room of moppers—yo, props

I know you’re not waiting for applause. Get those drawers ‘cause you know what you

Are now and what you’re gonna be later: nothing but a gelatin

And imitator, so find yourself soon and we can do lunch. After I murk

Yo, crunch and munch-munch, come bunch and pounded when ground into

Beef, punk. Packages contain your address from 90210

So no one needs to know I’m coming after you on Punk-Ass Avenue, wherever

At night, it don’t matter the weather, so I’m telling you

To get and keep your motherfucking act together (Get ‘em out of here)

[Hook: Matrix]

There’s no room for those who can’t move a crowd. I knock

‘Em down ‘cause I ain’t proud with what they stand for

I give ‘em all I got, yet they still want more

There’s no room, there’s no room

There’s no room for those who can’t move a crowd. I knock

‘Em down ‘cause I ain’t proud with what they stand for

I give ‘em all I got, yet they still want more

There’s no room, there’s no room

There’s no room for those who can’t move a crowd. I knock

‘Em down ‘cause I ain’t proud with what they stand for (Get ‘em out of here)

I give ‘em all I got, yet they still want more

There’s no room, there’s no room

[Outro: Matrix]

There’s no room. Pyramindz, Paragraphics, Reddawn