Rappers I monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythm I be kickin
Musician, inflictin composition
of pain I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaine
Holdin a M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, now
Bulletholes left in my peepholes
I'm suited up in street clothes
Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes
Y'all know my steelo with or without the airplay
I keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairway
Or either on the corner bettin Grants with the celo champs
Laughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps
G-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk shit
Remeniscing about the last time the Task Force flipped
Niggaz be runnin through the block shootin
Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston
Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and
I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin
Pick the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up," the Mac spit
Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip
Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn't look
Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shit is stuck
Try to **** it, it wouldn't shoot now I'm in danger
Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber
So now I'm jetting to the building lobby
and it was filled with children probably couldn't see as high as I be
(So whatchu sayin?) It's like the game ain't the same
Got younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name
and claim some corners, crews without guns are goners
In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on us
Fo'-fives and gauges, Macs in fact
Same niggaz'll catch a back to back, snatchin yo' cracks in black
There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked
So hold your stash until the coke price drop
I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock
And if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo
You gotta slide on a vacation
Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin
It drops deep as it does in my breath
I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined
I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind
3rd verse in 'juicy' by biggie

or anything biggie really
just give me a fender and let me rip
Escape artist by Sage Francis
SX Furrian
Eastwood Mandocaster
Bugera v55
DigiTech DL8
Boss BD-2
Dean Markley Tuner

Gear Hitlist:
2x12 Cab
Tone - Syzygy (Whole Song)
RA The Rugged Man - Uncommon Valor (2nd Verse)
Immortal Technique - Dance With The Devil (4th Verse)
Geologic - Blink (3rd Verse)
RA The Rugged Man - Three Kings (3rd Verse)
One Be Lo - Beneath The Surface (1st Verse)

The crowd starts to converse as lyrics start to immerse
The earth starts to reverse as stars start to burst
Relay it to your brethren, immaculate conception
Knowledge is my weapon, rhyming's my profession
I do it with perfection
I only veer off path to redirect blind men in the right direction
With the assistance of a sentence, I can go to distance
And escape the limits of my own five senses
Melodic stimulation, from brain's end, desires send
Beyond my physical limitations
It's amazing what I bring to the nation
When I flow, heads nod in perfect synchronization
It takes a revolutionary with a pen
To kill every illusionary devil in the end
too many to name really.

Sage Francis - Sun Vs Moon

The devil only exists because of your belief in him,
Same goes for that other guy,
I believe the sun is simply reflecting the shine from the moon (word?)
Stealing its spotlight, they'll have a cockfight at noon,
To settle their differences,
At midnight, rematch,
To stir up their similarities on turntables,
That chicken scratch proved to be unreadable,
The determining factor in who gets the pitch to control the tides,
No one decides a victor unless they give a fair listen to both the sides,
We're low-lives,
We go blind jerking off to the eclipse,
The sun was pulling cheap shots doing commercial body tricks,
Behind the back,
Under the leg,
I think he even did a headspin,
On a crossfader that sounded whack,
But looked excellent,
All of the sudden it gets dim,
The crater face steps in,
Puts mexican drumbreaks on the Technics,
He's like "Let's begin",
He conducted an orchestra so dope the sun started sweatin' him,
I guess he'd expected to win on pure artistic merit,
Composing complex plays with nothin but soundbytes,
Burned out the lights,
Made MCs too self conscious to put their mouths to mics
For a thousand nights,
It continued without a single slip up,
Except once the record skipped,
But it kinda sounded cool,
And fit within the rhythm he was juggling,
Poly-rhythms out of country western albums spinning,
It is plain that he had come to win,
But as always due to corrupt judging,
They drew a tie - Now it's do or die.

Saul Williams - Lalala

Nigga, you better drink half a gallon of Shaolin
Before you pluck the strings of my violin
My life is orchestrated, like London symphony
Concentrated, niggas waited and waited
I'm birthday whistles, belated
Blow out the candles, I wait in the darkness like a vandal
The silhouette of set in the mirror on the mantle
Fire place is in the heart, water places the art
'Round the island of desiring where most primitives stalk
Sacrificing their daughters, these primordial waters
Carry a feminine agenda that no man ever taught us
True they captured and caught us, transported, sold us and bought us
Constituted and lawed us, distorted truths that they taught us
We rebelled, then fought us, we conformed, then they formed us
Now y'all niggas rhyming 'bout material possessions
My Adidas are three years old like my daughter, niggas
Rhyme 'bout Alize and need to rhyme about water
But out of chaos comes order
Out of chaos comes order, out of chaos comes order
Out of chaos comes order, out of chaos comes order
Out of chaos comes order, out of chaos comes order
Fake niggas run for the border

In a past life I was a woodcarver's knife
The sharpened blade of a woodcutter
The eldest son of the chief's brother
A maker of drums
We scraped the insides of goat hides
And seek the hollows where sound resides
Offering the parts we did not use
To invoke the muse
Music of the ghettos, the cosmos
The Negroes, the necros
Overcomers of death, disciples of breath
Dissection of drumbeats like Osirus by Seth
Break beats into fourteen pieces
Dissembled chaos, organized noise
A patchwork of heartbeats to resurrect
True b-boys, be men
Let's mend the broken heart of Isis
Age of Aquarius, mother nature is furious
While you rhyme about being hardcore, be heartcore
What is it that we do art for?
Metaphor, medicine, it's an age of healing
Why not rhyme about what you're feeling or not be felt
Deal with the cards you're dealt
Calling on tarot readers and sparrow feeders
To cancel the Apocalypse
Metaphorically speaking, metaphorically speaking

Canibus - Spartibus

You wanna spar wit 'bus
Then let's get started 'cuz
Atomic thrusts turn you into cosmic dust
Bomb ya borders with Japanese Spigot mortars
Recompose your composition to sawdust
Time is breath; breath is life; life is light
Light is no less than capital 'C' on the mic
Beneath the mirage of night I'll attack you twice
Prepare to rig a sacrifice with my ritual rights
Reinforce my habitual likes 'n dislikes
Then diss you on the mic cause I'm sick o' the hype
No one's ever written what I write
Compare they calligraphy type
Tell me yo how can I not be nice
The royal semen of Caesar frozen in a cryofreezer
On sale for seven figures per milliliter
Lethally illegal; I speak to the people
In the form of an eagle on top of the Theves Cathedral
With boundless knowledge, like hairless dalai'lamas
With linen garments neatly wrapped around armpits
With monasteries in the mountains
Trumpets have already sounded
You can't denounce my crown bitch

Can Ox - Pigeon

Birds of the same feather flock together
Congested on a majestic street corner
That's a short time goal for most of 'em
Cuz most of 'em
Would rather expand their wings and hover over greater things
That's what we call inspired flight
By the pigeons that gotta eat pizza crust every night
And "Let there be light" was understood
When a mic-stand descended from up-and-above into the hood
And if my face is worth a thousand words when it's scarred
I would only hope that two of those are coco and butta
To heal the wounds of the tissue scarred to mark the death of my womb
But I've graduated, got my wings
And you've got to let go of my constructed Lego egg-o-waffle halo
Eh yo, I'm a black man with an African
Drum in my chest that beats on the opposite of the right
Let me know I got a breath left
In this frigid fragile capsule
That allows you to fly south before the winter winds trap you
I wrap my "hell I made it" wetsuit stitch
So I can swim in elevators crazy wet through piss
I'm just a pigeon with one mile left
That doggy-paddles through this bullshit ocean of death
And these rags-to-riches words will break bones
Like the assassination of two birds with one stone
That's why I don't associate with bird brains with their beaks in the air
Pelicans with wide jaws yap names for fish heads
You'll get tossed in the flames
Where some ornithologist will find your skeletal frame

So fuck needles, fuck smoke
Fuck lines that make the sinus choke
Fuck chasers, trails, fuck waves and rails
Fuck hang-overs, fuck hallucinations
Regurgitations, mandatory sentences and UA tracing
Blind my insight and dull the common sense
Give me inhibition, kill the superstition and the confidence
Built the tolerance, now it's more that I consume it
When it boards up my room, the world's whores will croon in unison
Unify the eulogy, autopsy pages read euthanasia, i.e., irony
But here I be within a pool of my drool
Sedated, windows dilated, comatose, life overdose
Tell Jacob Miles to keep it wild style
I promise I'll smile
And check the floor, God's got nice tile
Tell Jacob Mile to keep that shit wild style
And I'll smile
And check the floor, God's got nice tile
Free your mind and your ass will follow
The kingdom of heaven is within
Open up your funky mind and you can fly

I never met a OG who never did shit wrong
you tried to diss the Eazy-E so now nigga it's on
you and your Doggy Dogg, think that yall hoggin shit
both of you bitches, can come and suck my doggy dick
beating up a bitch don't make you shit, but then again some niggas
think it makes a man, damn it's a trip
how a nigga can switch so quick from wearing lipstick
to smoking on Chronic at picnics, and now you think you're bigger
but to me you ain't nothin but a bitch ass nigga
that ain't worth a food stamp,
and at Death Row, I hear you're gettin treated like boot camp
gotta follow your sergeant's directions, or get your ass
punked with the Smith and Wesson, learn a lesson from the E
Stay in your place and don't step to real mother****ing G's

Eazy-E Real Muthaphuckking g's
Gold jacket, green jacket, who gives a shit?

How could I forget a personal favorite.

A Story No One Told - Shad K

God exhaled, the moon shivered in a blue river
Stardust fell through space, released and gave its peace
To a man in his place beneath
Graciously as he laid asleep, draped in sheets
He said please, seeing my life like this made me think
I could state succinctly everything that life is you gave me ink
I could even print every speech and thought
And release my plot on these streets I've walked with a piece of chalk
To paint the sharpest image of heart, cause as much as art can mimic
Nothing's as real as a life told from start to finish
Suddenly, the man awoke with a violent cry
That strangely didn't seem to disturb the silent sky
His wife was still beside him under the blankets enclosed
When he looked up at the clock, he saw the hands in it froze
So the man just arose, put his hands to the roads
And began to compose the most candid of prose

So he wrote every quote spoken, left every breath kept
Sketched in the next step of concrete
Then death crept and lead him to his bed
As the sun began to rise, he titled his surprise
The story of the man that died
Then his wife and the townsfolk awoke and were shocked
First by his passing, but then what he wrote with his chalk
They got the roads blocked by a flock of postmen and cops
He wrote from his lot to the edge of town, close to the docks
Where he used to watch the boats and often joked with his pops
His folks had not long ago passed, now both with him walk
People came from everywhere, they read the story through for days
Wasn't nothing new or strange, still they were moved and amazed
It wasn't the places he'd been or the people he met
It was the spaces between all the secrets he kept
They wept joyfully, because the greatest story no one told
Was just the story of an ordinary man growing old

Picture left etched in stone, life sketched in poems
On sidewalks in dry chalk next to home
Picture all you've left alone, kept in reflections shown
Your dome sketched in subjective tones
Picture life on a sidewalk frame for all to view
Try to name it, it's called you
Picture it in the space between steps
It's the grace between breaths
And the message in this make believe text
Picture it...
^damn I need to get that, i only have the old prince
Free your mind and your ass will follow
The kingdom of heaven is within
Open up your funky mind and you can fly

Quote by romencer17
^damn I need to get that, i only have the old prince

It's a great album, even better than The Old Prince in my opinion. Most Shad fans outside of his hometown don't seem to even know about his first record.
yeah I had no clue before now
Free your mind and your ass will follow
The kingdom of heaven is within
Open up your funky mind and you can fly