Artist: Black Thought & 9th Wonder f/ Styles P Album: Streams of Thought, Vol. 1 Song: Making a Murderer Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com, Cedmaster3K [Intro] Uh-huh, chea Two-fifteen [Black Thought] I said, outer space the place that I'm parkin' in My marketin', when you see the sky darkenin' Rhyme artisan, from the crew that's bipartisan Hi haters, +a 5th Grader+ you're not +Smarter than+ Alpha and Omega, you Betas I march harder than Batteries, y'all ain't included, you're not a part of it I just took a flight to France to cop cardigans at Lanvin I'm that primetime Buju Banton And I'm just tryna get it on 'til I die Am I wrong if I'm livin' like the laws don't apply? Makin' music out of nothin', know that boy's bonafide It's disturbin' when a murderer enjoys homicide Talented Mr. Trotter squad, beyond qualified Multiplyin' the dollar sign, the grind "is real"/Israel, it's Palestine My sidekick came from Columbine That fly shit came from Saint Laurent Surprise bitch! I never lived a false moment in time Riddle me, what kind of omen am I? You know the slogan is right I said a weapon should be chosen to fire Only the ghetto Beethoven replied, the 9th Wonder maker Thunder breaker send these toys to the undertaker My pen smokin' like a rude boy from Jamaica While I'm erasin' every fuckboy from the face of the Earth What's up, boys? It's time for you to get your weight up Yo, I probably began in the Rift, Valley In places, untraceable by, Rand McNally Took a cobblestone trolley through a Mercer Street alley The more, championship rings than John Salley Biochemically on par, with Salvador Dali I traveled to Tijuana to smack, the federali Who packin' avocado toast, like Mario Batali I'm an ocean without a coast, goin' back to Cali nigga Name some other body equally as ill Frequently I see the drama, call me Cecil B. Demille Not a chink up in the armor though, I'm lethally for real People been tellin' me recently "Tariq, you need to chill" Well picture that, the diplomat, pistol slap aristocrats Any rapper comin' for me, I'ma send a missile back Not too many legends got a legacy that's this intact That equipment I'm grippin kept where the ammunition at Soul Makossa like I'm Manu Dibango Wild as the Democratic Republic of the Congo I'm Hunter S. Thompson doin' it gonzo A rapper winds up as a John Doe, I told niggas Sixty seconds to shine before I fold niggas I must be out of my mind with it, gold diggers Here come the general for the quadricentennial I'm a non-millennial, what I rep is the old niggas [Styles P] Let's meet at the crossroads of torsos And learn some things only the Lord knows Break the law, it's the only law now, no one knows Got pies in the oven but no DiGiorno's We all got fucked, but no pornos We ain't growin corn but got cornrows We ain't playin greens but we be spendin it Lifespan is short, try extendin it If you ain't into reading, I'm recommendin it (I recommend it) I'm readin Carter G. Woodson when I'm in the woods When the money's cut off, then we barter goods Lotta niggaz is cowards that ran out of fatherhood (Cowards!) Should we kill 'em or let 'em live? (Ha?!) I don't fuck with no suckers, I never did Mi amore, if you a Moor If I ever go to war it's the kids I do it for I eat emcees, they can send me a few of yours And by a few I mean way more than two You can times that by twenty and tell 'em to come through (come thru!) And watch them get beat like African drums do Also, I probably gave lessons to Sun Tzu Lyrically, I'm Bruce Lee master of Kung-Fu (OWW~!) Rhymin with Black Thought, possessin a black thought I told you that I'm conscious but betchu I'll clap off (Betchu!) I'ma be the one that they hold in a rap off I ain't wrapped too tight, my nigga I snap off (Yeah!) Or maybe I snap on When I go for the rhyme, my nigga the latch on I'm Hannibal on an elephant Animal but elegant, givin you hell heaven sent Light a joint, I've been places you've never been Could close my eyes, I could die then get wise Read my life like a script, I'm gettin it revised Used to keep the beat joint, right up in the Levi's I'm the +10th Wonder+, I told 'em to ask 9th I'm the other Black Thought, the last EAR bender Avatar ghost, the one who could bend time The one who could bend rhymes, the one who could bend flows Reppin for all niggaz, lil' nigga you know We the ones who made "Making of a Murderer" FUCK around and you could be in Making of a Murderer - GHOST!