Now we found out some time ago that, if you take a whole group of really superbad dudes and hang ‘em in together, they’ll make some music whether or not somebody else thought it was hip or not, you know?They’ll be OK. You dig?Somebody’s got to start it

Release the brainstorm to make something kind of lyrical

A strange form, something kind of lyrical

Blowing up spots from state to state

O.C. is coming to town

But you just can’t wait

It’s like me against

Anyone, first full verse is spontaneous

Combustion thrusts me, no rapper can dust me

Bounced upon the scene with a theme, Word...Life

I cut fantasy out ‘cause I differ from a dream

Wisdom lies deep in my molecules, you assumed

I fell victim to hip hop blues

you’re way off, I stay on tour often, rocking spots on

The California coast, ranging on back to Boston

Enforcing my theory, leaving rappers teary-eyed

Fry most who came and thought they had stride

You accustomed to cussing and bluffing, fussing for nothing

Half of y’all crews are just soft like muffins, I bake

Masterpieces, sharper thesis.

Y’all candy-coated motherfuckers stink like feces

Needless to say, are these running shoes yours?

You retreated when I gave out hit for wars

My microphone set is immensely brick-wall

Solid in and out. You slept, so now snore

Who got my back?You ask Lord and Blastmaster

Unorthodox, combinations from the masters

Mics I menace. When it’s finished, you get

An understanding of what we’re bringing: no gimmicks

Release the brainstorm to make something kind of lyrical

A strange form, something kind of lyrical

Blowing up spots from state to state

Finesse is coming to town

But you just can’t wait

My decision is precision

I’m ill in ways you can’t vision

I got niggas worshipping Lord Finesse like religion

You can’t fuck aroundyou’re kidding.

You don’t want no collision?

You better fly South like a pigeon

Good riddance. I’ll flip flows you can’t imagine

I’ll break down your Flintstone style into fragments

So pay attention to the man rapping

Don’t think that it can’tI’m living proof it can happen

I’ll reign supreme logical, verbally

I drop it in ways that you never dreamed possible

So lyrically, I personally figure

That my Harvard style is too deep for you nursery niggas

When I clutch the mic, I’m coming rough and right

I build more than them workers on construction sites

I’m skilled at it, I’m Illmatic

So “yes”answers your question if you ask me: do I still have it?

I’m the realest, the illest

Coming out the woodworks like them homos in the Village

But, seriously, I got the remedy. If I was at the

Bottom of the toilet, you niggas still couldn’t shit on me

Originally, it’s the same vet

I’m on that get-rich list, but they didn’t call my name yet

I’ll make it special like a prom night, I’ll bomb mics

While other brothers are old news like Walter Cronkite

It’s critical. You got these Xerox individuals

But, word life, it ain’t nothing like the original

I’ll wreck kidsthat’s my theory and perspective

When it comes to hip hop, I’m on the case like detectives

You better step to the next man

‘Cause the greatest soccer player couldn’t kick it like Finesse can

Release the brainstorm to make something kind of lyrical

A strange form, something kind of lyrical

Blowing up spots from state to state

The Teacher is coming to town

But you just can’t wait

This is the scientific, extra-prolific, terrific, mystic

Simplistic, metaphysic, no gimmick type lyric

When you hear it or hear me running through the scrimmages

You see images affecting your sight to make

You go, “Yo, there he is!No, there he is!”No, here he is

Rocking your superiors in your hardest areas

Your lyrical skills are inferior

It’s because your video that they cheer for ya

I’ll take care of ya, quickly ‘cause I cannot take it

Your weak head needs to be decapitated

‘Cause you fake it. If your heart was caffeine

Well, you’re now decaffeinated

You’ll scream “battle,”but it’s the end of your career

You anticipate it, I hate it

Career ended, how splendid

For wack emcees, I come doctor-recommended

Release the brainstorm to make something kind of lyrical

A strange form, something kind of lyrical

Blowing up spots from state to state

Haha!You know what’s up when Lord Finesse up in the piece. All you wack ass rappers better go rewrite your album. O.C. in the house, KRS in the house. Yeah, New York style in the house, yeah. BDP crew in the house, yeah!