Hostile (feat. Jeffrey Stewart & Keith Murray)

It's the E Double (Who?)

The funk lord, goddamn

Yo, I'm swingin' more shit than Tarzan

I freak the ill tactics 'cause I'm a ghetto bastard

Some say my rap style is drastic

Whoa, I tear the frame out the microphone

Daddy's home, the owner of the chrome

Yo, my concepts is wicked

Even the wicked witch couldn't get with the switch, the ugly bitch

Time to reach my peak this week and rock a ill technique

So y'all can freak out like sheep

The undercover brother from Brentwood

Yes, I'm doin' awesome, you wanna see me call Steven Austin

For your protection, go sit in the R&B section for this session

'Cause I'm real deal, boy, you better believe it, word

Straight from the Boondocks, aka the suburbs

Peace to the underground where I create my sound

That's more doper than Spellbound

My time's up, so what the fuck, slouch?

I'ma be back, for now I'm out

And now introducing the man with the flyest transparent style on the planet

Straight from LOD, Park Ave

The one and only Philly Blunt King

Keith Murray's comin' from the North, South, East, and Left

Rhymin' to death, makin' a world when I take a deep breath

With a body boom bash, my paragraph a trey-deuce

Human behavior in a psychopath

Ooh, I might lose my cool and break fool and pull out my get busy tools

I write like a mad journalist

To funk, that's deeper than a bottomless spliff

The most beautifulest thing in this world is my notion

For murderous poetry in motion

And the illitoic shit I come across

Form a leash, you're trapped in with explosive force

I push your head through the cracks of sanity

And leave your brain doin' a bid in purgatory

It's 96 degrees in the shade

Before I catch blood on my blade

I take my frustration to the stage

And get open dope and stupid bumblin' rumblin' tracks

When I rap my jams be packed like a laundromat

My context'll wreck your whole concept

'Cause my delivery is so complex

And I'm intergalactic on plastic

With the super distinguish that I kick

I'm high strung at the top of my lung

With my tongue makin' hardcore **** wanna get dumb

My dialogue comes straight from the slums

Damage to your medula, cerebrum, and cerebellum

If ya got a crew, you better tell 'em