[Intro: Black Thought]

To all the Jim Carrey-ass, M.A.R.S. Co-op

Know what I'm sayin'? M.A.R.S. Co-op, what the fuck?

To the clones, we bless the domes

Blow the vial, you know my style, large co-op

Freestyle all the way, son

Dice

[Verse 1: M.A.R.S]

First of all, let's talk about these ill capers

And fly-ass frontin' bitches that now caught vapors

Niggas run up on you with guns, snatchin' papers

Outlined body chalk, is how they would scrape ya

From off the pavement, I hate gettin' locked up

'Cause that upstate bus reminds me of the slave ships

But then The Bible never saved shit

I guess that's why every juvenile is in the same predicament

You wanna slang crack, or hold TEC's, and do the concept

You can't make loot when your moms is smokin' up the product

I try to tell ya, don't let these streets fuckin' fail ya

The way niggas be gettin' clapped, the shit'll fuckin' scare ya!

But in the dark, we ran wild, son, we killin' 'em

Niggas scared, can't stand still like fuckin' helium

Fake niggas, they don't go platinum, they go aluminum

Got 'em cloned the fuck up, son, that's why we losin' 'em

I'm lookin' at this nigga's longevity

To make a big play, but then, it might be a mistake

'Cause if I get sent to D.C., I'm sendin' Dice to D.E

With three P's, so when I get out, he can see me

For real, 'cause the streets is filled with snakes and rats

The snake will be that bitch, and that rat will be that cool cat

With swollen pockets, we gonna take you back home

Master-Allah-Rule-Savior, never clone

[Verse 2: Black Thought]

Yo, I use the mic to slap you in the face and erase your taste

Disgrace your date, put your title to waste

Dominant lyrical grace from a place

Called wild Illadel' Val', Pennsy — that's the residency

Consistent currency, my pocket's never empty

Some cats believe they MC, but we know they all fraud!

Do a show in Philly, niggas wouldn't applaud

Nobody know your record, nor who you openin' for

Can tell your squad's artificial while approachin' the door

So you should prepare for lyrical terror that's pure

Step up to the reservoir of the soul proprietor style Messiah

Or the kaya lord down with Dice Raw

The matador, shorty connoisseur

Stompin' whatever you build to the floor

Similar to that of a dinosaur, I told you I'm the rap predator

You insist to imitate — what for?!

Superstar niggas is ten percent real

Ninety percent invented for a fuckin' record deal

Comin' with somethin' veterans can't feel

I hit you like a steel anvil because you grafted off the next man's skill

But still, I remain mellow, seein' the theatrics of Othello

But know the tactics of the P.L.O

These C-L-O-N-E-S fess

The phoniest cats is felonious, word!

[Verse 3: Dice Raw]

Dice Raw, the juvenile lyricist, corner-store terrorist

Block trooper, connoisseur of fine cannabis

Focus never weak, blow up the spot like plastique

Leave a nigga shook to the point he won't speak

Never half-assed, always live and direct

On bitches try to punk, smell the panty and raw sex

Mad lights I had to black out when fake niggas act out

Or step out of place, they get slapped in they face

All y'all niggas is fake, tryna emulate my style

What grown man? In this game, to me, you're a child

I trained wack MCs in camps like ex-Marines

Why the fuck you think you went home and had bad dreams?

Of horrifyin' things that your ass never seen before

You traveled through the realm of Dice Raw

Where clones get they domes blown with chrome microphones

It's not your fault, black, just the fact you wasn't shown

Don't come through this like a smurf, unnatural, it's not from this Earth

Represent, well, I've been like this since birth

And I won't be the last, but I definitely was the first!

Dice Raw, big car Logan Val' soldier

[Verse 4: Malik B]

Don't come across that line, or pay a cost

Knuckle games and hammer cocked, ain't nothin' sweet or soft

Win, lose or draw, to the jaw take one

Deranged lyrical launcher on station

No conversation is needed, my task completed

Read a nigga up and down in the cut where I'm seated

Snatch you from your cloud of cannabis, you ignoramuses

You laid on your lap when I attacked your glamorous

Lifestyle, I banged your head up with the right fowl

My character a product of this 2-1-5th trife style!

I breeze through areas niggas would fear to walk in

Balance the talkin', that galactic style is of a Vulcan

Your Star Trek ass will wrinkle, spill these words and form into a sprinkle

Cat, you're brought up and the name of twinkle

My insight will crack the windpipe of y'all niggas

Whether small, middle-sized or tall niggas

Just sign your name next when I start to X

Givin' out flesh pains of death, so fuck a rain check

The insane vet, whether you ganked the brain wet

You proceed to lame check, the opposite of same sex

I annihilate your type if you violate

Makin' your blood rush, your pulse now at a higher rate