| Yeah, yeah, a special guest appearance | 
| From the slums… yo, aiyo | 
| I examine your diameter, third eye light the camera up | 
| Be careful, I got four ninjas, inside your parameter | 
| Perimeter, flame burst out all sides like Gamora | 
| My poisonous is released, gas from the canister | 
| Raise the black fist, we keep the earth on it’s axis | 
| I make a good day move slow like molasses | 
| Welcome to the bee hive, dual processor with the G5 | 
| There’s not a tape or disco break I can’t revive | 
| In this high tech world of fire wire and microchip | 
| We still keep the four-five clip, filled with the spiral tip | 
| I come from the 36 Chambers of danger | 
| With many lyrical swordsmen, that quick to change ya | 
| The difficulty to see closely, is mostly | 
| It’s a critical point, when ya rap niggas approach me | 
| Like the blind, deaf, dumb, who mind was left numb | 
| A non B-Boy nigga, couldn’t rhyme to the drum | 
| When I started M.C.'ing I entered, the gates of pleasure | 
| Not knowing, I be coming with, too much to measure | 
| With the math of an elder, and the steel of a welder | 
| The path of tray, that I had laid down, to held a | 
| Blueprint, that would draw attention like the Pope | 
| I examine all with the internal mirror of the scope | 
| Supreme deluxe edition, CREAM with a touch of wisdom | 
| Beams that through up the system, spleens, I conduct, you listen | 
| How you gonna tell me no, yo, the fuck you is in | 
| Locked in a four block radius like a public prison | 
| Twenty two year old, dunn, ain’t got a cup to piss in | 
| But he got a barrel gun, and that’s knuckle twitching | 
| And he got a baby moms and a cousin bitching | 
| Went to catch a body, now he stuck in another prison | 
| When you see it, you better acknowledge, your all swords | 
| Blaze the green hundred fours | 
| Pull out on you, blew you for the cause | 
| And Sudan outst a nigga, seclude you from my Clan | 
| This is water Glock, aces on cameras sniffin' raw | 
| Why try to fuck with these lecturers | 
| I’m so high powered, my electrical structure blew down the floor | 
| You was king for a second, I reigned, came with a different name | 
| The W.T.C. | 
| Family and more, one! | 
| They applause when I make my entrance | 
| I move on 'em with age and experience, before I start the sentence | 
| The rhyme was designed to meet most demand | 
| Is enough to compensate, fertilize the land | 
| He blew out the belt drive, M.C.'s they felt vibes | 
| Powerful dart, narrowly missing your whole tribe | 
| Scientists look, at the magnitude and devastation | 
| But the strands of heavy metal seem to have no relation | 
| But it’s always potential for large scale disasters | 
| Because the instrumentals, spins a hundred times faster | 
| Many was taken, is at the price of a pawn | 
| And the collective lost had left, thousand of mourn | 
| Them Clansmen, are the nucleus of hip-hop | 
| There’s no room for error, M.C.'s will get dropped | 
| Evidence of terrifying threats from heat pressure | 
| Power by strong winds that blew rhymes off the dresser | 
| The words spread through the town from Yonkers to Leffers | 
| And to kill off the slang was a city wide effort | 
| But they couldn’t be more wrong, my click was all strong | 
| Fit together seamlessly, til you’re all gone | 
| The queen by far, is the strongest piece | 
| Should too, should not be prematurely brought | 
| Into play, during in the opening | 
| Or she will be attacked by weaker pieces | 
| And driven back, it is very dangerous | 
| To make a raid with the queen early on in the game | 
| It is best, in opening, to make but one move with the queen | 
| And that, to a square where she is not exposed | 
| To any direct or indirect attack |