Artist: Pete Rock, Copywrite & Planet Asia Album: Terminal 3 Presents The Academy Song: Rock This Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash [Intro: Pete Rock] One two, uhh Y'all niggaz mad word up Y'all don't mean shit, the fuck is wrong wit'chall Like I don't write my own shit, faggot ass Nigga I wrote this shit (hip-hop) The fuck y'all niggaz talkin 'bout? Uhh, peep Pete Rock niggaz Get that, hip-hop flow son, yeah Yo, Pete Rock, desperados, used to push the hard top Milano Keep a trunk full of vinyl now it's all about Serrato Scratchbox, laptops, 745, knockin Cam'Ron, Mavado Speak in tongues, nah papo, but I'm worldwide though Paris, Tokyo, Bosnia, Swizterland, with my mans and them Italiano show respect like my last name's Soprano (hush) Another day, another dollar bill I'ma keep it real, give a CRAP how y'all cowards feel~! I make records for whoever nigga, Johnny Gill Jim Jones, Johnny Cash, critics can kiss my ass (word up) PR'rrah, the MPC slaughterer But right now I'm in the booth Tiki Barber'd up New York Giant, New York's finest I flow timeless and +Soul Survived+ this The fuck y'all niggaz talkin 'bout? Y'all verse was whack Fake gangsters, bag y'all niggaz just like sandwiches Be goin to the house for the points, I just landed it (swish) The Boy Wonder for Prez, the hood candidate (no doubt) [Copywrite] Pete Mirabella, artists label me a +Ruthless+ scary fella But +Eazy+, I'm no +Jerry Heller+ (shut up) Skinny middle finger flickin high to critics Sky's the limit, if there is a limit, I disguise the limit Be so far P-boy, if you thought I called emo And come off the top so sick you'd swear I was on chemo Beast havin a feast on the weak, peep, back with a leash On the beach, with a beard, with an ass like Kardashian 3D The bitch daughter, but you're not gonna shoot your gun She's freakier than a Catholic school for nuns Taught Carter how to dig deep She blows harder than the bitch {?} from Back to the Future 1 And I'm Michael J., takin up the rifle game Top of the Eiffel Tower, snipin cowards twice a day Ohio's the state that I can claim (that's mine) Lew Pimp paid back in '98 when faggots liked to hate Megahertz, friend, Hall of the Fame It's a, big event, Chris Ward's complainin Mobs in stores, bars galore, whatever you had to kick a style You got zero bars in a candy aisle And as far as the subliminal shit that you pencil I ain't hear a word of it, might as well been the instrumental You motherfuckers who failed to bread and gettin calls Satan's collection agency and have Hell to pay [Planet Asia] Yo, murder from the spacebar, emcee and car seats and the ass to slash and y'all 85ers pay up Marcus Garvey the vision, rap like religion Rule the ruler Bacardi cooler, spittin that venom Verbal spar star, Goretex'n and flexin molecular manuscripts I plan to flip, bustin like a bag of chips Save the savageness, check out the cabinet of command Simply here to destroy your habitat Fuck a battle rap, battle this gat, and all that My whole team layin 'em flat We go the distance, and penetrate the masses with persistence Snakes hissin, devils in disguise shapeshiftin My peoples on the rise weightliftin Crate diggin, between me and them there's a great difference Yeah, we just foul You was talkin loud but you ain't tough now