[Verse 1: KRS One]
We hit 'em and get 'em
We stick 'em and jig 'em, we pick 'em and kick 'em
Flippin' them whip and
I'm wing clippin' them lip cause I'm cold sick of them
Much quicker than them lyrically trickin and
My tribe be on a quest like Tip and them
On every avenue puttin the full clip in 'em
Splittin' and strippin' 'em down while spittin' a round
Into them soundclash see winnin' them, just begginin' them
Get rid of every bit of them with them negative idioms
I don't even consider them in the new millenium we killin them
Breeze Deep, Kenny and Will and them, KRS-One we thrillin' 'em
Many battles we been in them now we rebuildin them
We blaze, fulfillin them, Keith the Clink, Jesse, Jamil and them
We originate styles, others be stealin'them

[Verse 2: Vigilante]
You got a good rise in your rolodex, who flow is next?
Comin out to fuck with the best, put it in your chest
Inhale it and hold that, blow it out when I say let go
Let's see if you can hold your breath by the time I flip to the next flow
This show is real, this is the deal, guns I'm running
Gotta make it out of town to flip my shit and keep it coming
Then bring it back with another stack of raps
To blow your back out
How many of y'all wanna go for yours?
I keep my dogs in the crackhouse
[Verse 3: Buckshot]
Let's take a walk through Crown Heights
Steppin through the city at night with a bunch of n***as and two mics
Form a little lynch mob, and stomp through the five boroughs
Head back to Brooklyn in the Expo
Back on the block, I see the cops everybody clockin
Buckshot, when you see the rocks, me I got you shocked
Why not? You see the recipe
Buckshot, I represent Brooklyn and my n***a Biggie

[Verse 4: Keith Murray]
I'm from C-I, L-I, F-L-Y
Where the n***as and the bitches stay paid, fly and high
Where a slut'll get mad if you call her a bitch
And a rat'll get mad if you call her a snitch
Where the rich emerge, with the n***as from the ditch
And it's a myth, they get n***as from the suburbs, that's herbs
Yo, this is for my n***as on the block all day
Who don't give a fuck waiting for crime to pay
Put your money on it, yo, we never fronted
Long Island got some of the best n***as that ever done it
From Riverhead to C.I. to Brentwood to Wyndanch
N***as coming through will not stand a chance
From Roosevelt to Freeport to Hempstead to Uniondale
Coming deep from the depths of hell
I'm dead serious, even though you see me smilin'
Rough enough to break New York from Long Island
[Verse 5: Cam'ron]
We destroy n***as, need advice cause I heard 'em sayin Jesus Christ
You should see the sight, cookin ox-tail, peas and rice
Making about a G a night, they can't read or write
But I got every creed and type
You need a dyke, baby girl, I see the light
But sometimes y'all get crimey crimey, grimy grimy
But those with a tiny hiney they get whiny whiny
So guard your girl, Harlem World, cock the gun, pop it son
Fila fam, illa players, Killa Cam is still the man

[Verse 6: Bounty Killer]
[?]

[Verse 7: Killah Priest]
Yo, hit you with the force of an iron horse
Tear your face off the planet, leaving one-third damaged
With your back cracked the Earth canvas, leavin mountains slanted
Rock the Earth off the axle, crabs who
Polar bears beneath the sea gravel
Thoughts be runnin wild like the Lil' Rascals
Puttin' dinosaurs inside of figure fours, rip you with nine inch claws
Chasing motherfuckers through malls and clash in halls
Beating motherfuckers through walls, stompin through floors
And jumpin' down elevator shafts
Searchin' for they ass, stayin' low in the grass
Wearing a gas mask, wrapping their hands up in plastic bags
On stage like a savage goin' mad
What? Yeah yeah, suuuuu!
[Verse 8: Prodigy]
Yeah, by all means you know you gotta put Queens on it
Put cream on it, Q.B. we rep often
Take over your party, slam dance with your hood
Took your ladies back to the projects with us
Then sent her ass back on the Q-train home
Satisfied, she learned the words to my thug song
See we one big borough of Dons with firearms
And we never use those, til the man act
Other than he's 'sposed to, n***a what I'm 'sposed to do?
Shots whistle, damn near missed that, stash the pistols

[Verse 9: Redman]
From the, tip of my Timbs, to my eyebrows
The hostile, eEnglish, Olde E widemouth
Get PCP fiends, jumpin off cliffs
And if you had the balls, you'd be walkin off stiff
My paragraph alone is worth five mics (uh-huh)
A twelve song LP, that's thirty-six mics (uh-huh)
And while you win Un Hype (uh-huh) I spit on your snipe
And tell you fuck you and that bitch on your bike
Brick City

[Verse 10: Reverand Run]
Ayo, now bust it, never try me crimey, I'm grimy, so don't deny me
I be little like your Rascals and stymie to fly that hiney
Buy me keys, to my Benz and my Coupe
Like Jay and Run and D.M.C.'s, that's the name of my group
(Now speed it up) Beat to the rhythm of the rhyme
I'm givin up a dime, there go another line you figured
Never drivin by nine, never givin up a dime if you was
Never been that n***a
If you really wanna test me, brother don't stress me
Or you just be bowlin
It's Reverand like a Jesse, brother that's just me
And that's just my colon

[Outro: All]
The five boroughs of death, we rep to death
Step aside little n***as, show time, yep
It's goin down the moment we inside the spot
Let's rock'n'roll, you know the M.O., it gets real
When the five boroughs of death, we rep to death
Step aside little n***as, show time, yep
It's goin down the moment we inside the spot
Let's rock'n'roll, you know the M.O., it gets hot