Letras
(Greg Allen) So you think you're cool, huh
With your rocks and your coward guns
Little punk, watch me out write you
I'm just having fun, this verbal diatribe
Attacks the center of your phony pride
And if you battle me, you might as well commit suicide
Now take your self esteem, hang it with a noose and let it die
SiNiK, Greg, and Stream on the loose, so you're gonna lose
Tell the truth dude, you're a poser and you know it's true
We'll make the room move, when we come right around to you
Dismantle you, with this verbal proof
We're some clever dudes, forever like a tattoo
I'll scar you and your little crew
I'm the muse, sank here with rhymes to belittle you
Bing, let the bell ring, I'm telling what these words mean
We're the mountain kings, chucking boulders at your mainstream
Cause you smoke the glam up like Rockford, but no pain
You ain't no thug man, you barely pass for one of these
So shut your ugly mouth, cause your style is a fallacy
It's hip hop, and it's not commercial, this is underground
It's hip hop, Broadcasting live from the basement
It's hip hop, loud as a missile when it thumps the ground
It's hip hop, and it's not Comcast, Viacom, or fake shit
It's hip hop, and it's not commercial, this is underground
It's hip hop, Broadcasting live from the basement
It's hip hop, loud as a missile when it thumps the ground
It's hip hop, no Comcast, Viacom, or fake shit
(Stream of Consciousness) We'll kill your garbage rhymes
Leave you behind, still at the starting line
Give you a part of our mind, stars that shine
Brighter than diamonds
I'm a freedom fighter
Stream'll write a rhyme, that'll break you like hymans
Emcees can't even recite the lines
One take, let it be cake while we're climbing
Kings of the mountain, minus the rings
But you still feel the sting from arousal and wrath
We're bound to outlast, cause your sound is pure trash
Give a fuck about how many mountains you pound or your cash