aite, we gonna get it this time
for all the hip-hop fans out there
plenty of 'em
the true hip-hop fans
put your hands in the sky, decompoze and binary star
hip-hop to its fullest
the purest hip-hop, the purest form of hip-hop
decompoze...binary star...check it out
if you'se a hip-hop fan, put your hands in the sky
cause as long as we around, hip-hop will never die
it don't take a g.e.d. to figure out
d-compoze and the star's what it's all about
you say you keepin' it real, it sound more like you glamorized
but what i do with mics, you can only fantasize
binary star swing it like samurais
see for yourself and tell me what you analyze
search and you'll find, these lyrics i design
be the greatest thing to happen to a button that rewinds
my style's plenty
me without mics is like luke without force without mds without 20/20
vision, i see through your competition
you might be fly, but i'm a hawk, you'se a pigeon
my lyrical equipment like the stuff nasa got
you shoulda, woulda, coulda like them seven astronauts
you know you can't rock it, what you grabbin' for?
keep comin' at me with that bull, i ain't a matador
i'm just a microphone metaphor specializer
i blow your mind like a drunk driver with a breathalizer
i recognize the fact that i'm so phat
so when it comes to speech i'm an exerciser
you in a wack crew and this is what you call terror
you carry dead weight, you should've been a pallbearer
you disintegrate with time, you can't innovate a rhyme
wanna impress me, son, imitate a-mine
i demonstrate the line that'll penetrate your mind
let me enorate how i'm gonna generate the shine
that keeps you squinting twice, i'm fly like vincent price
disperse one first, your thirst like quentin ice
with the, flow freakin', flip sines like cosecant
my show's your rose beacon, when you know 'compoze speakin'
step the me in, refereein' like it's "foul two"
but i'll do a style you can't bear like kyle yoo
now you, is who i'm against, with the constant
comments, the content of my consonance
the consequence will be the first down like ten yards
that's where i send hordes
mcs i've been scored
with my metallic d, i want my space in the galaxy
so just remain calm like mallaby
decompoze and the star's, what it's all about (2x)
decom--decom--decom--
you know it hurts when we come with the frequency, flagrantly
frequently
some similarity
none can't compare with these poetries
overseas or locally
luckily
i like my rhymes syrupy, thick, rich, and buttery
and put 'em over hot tracks to make your mouth watery
but if you bother me
i'ma bend that ass like sodomy
love the love, dezowsky, the prodigy
my delivery
is lyrical assault and battery
consider me the mystery
you couldn't solve
how my styles evolved
how my crew evolved
you wack crews is off on the microphone
in my acid
but as it
turns out, you was pushin' up +daisy's+
'cause my +dukes+ was +hazzard+
king of the swing
the rain was forecasted
my style's a bad apple
in your basket
cause i spoil the whole bunch of mcs rotten
so they'll be remembered as forgotten