Flexi wit da Tech(nique)

I diss batty bwoys like Buju Banton, rippin wan-tan destruction

Sag my pants to stop the suction plus it's quicker when I'm fuckin

Split Dutch Master faster I puff izz that causes asthma as dust

Some say from NJ, quick to give up papes

Beef'll keep it street, defeat niggas who sleep

Or reap the concrete status kick your ass with my apparatus

Those who, oppose this, split their shit like Moses

My written tabs is rippin fags and the whole bit

I murder mics and tape decks, so check it while I wrecks it

Far from junkies keep it real because I'm hungry like the Bundy's ("Al!!")

Got more rumble than thunder crumple chumps like they was paper

Eight for keys, make G's, but One of Tame made these

Conjunction junction what's your function on the real

My mass appeal is real I swim through beats like Navy Seals

Irregular, my style, suckers competitors who think they better

I knit my skit, like my Grandma's sweater

Nuts who want to inflict, harm against the charmer

Best to rest their case because I wear medieval armor

To protect, my subjects, my style's quite hard

Never could you copy cause my style's quite odd

Select the best concepts, context to rhyme text

Plus a twenty dollar bet, niggas flexi wit da tech

"The tech's technique, cause he's a technician"

"One two, whatcha gonna do"

"The tech's technique, cause he's a technician"

"One two, whatcha gonna do"

"The tech's technique, cause he's a technician"

"One two, whatcha gonna do"

"The tech's technique, cause he's a technician"

"One two, whatcha gonna do" (Two: El the Sensai, Tame One)

I rip rhyme charts apart, I jump-start on the gunner

Arrest niggas like Honda from the under never blunder wonder if

I get stiff, I'm bound to catch an L

Nah never that I'm down with Tame I'm MC El

Lately playin Hurricane G demos in my WalkMan

I walk and I talk and read issues of The Source and

Check out the dreadlocks in Bedrock puffin indo

By the branch like plants, and do the cypher dance