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[Featuring Brewin  J Treds] 
[Brewin] 
Check  check it 
Fuckin with a nigga like myself your lyrics fail 
LaVerne's gear shows your record so molest the hoes buttnaked 
Youse a loser  your crappin shoulda kept it to your lonesome 
But you like  'Look everybody  I'm a silly microphone crumb' 
You oughta turn to me  I flaunt essential vocally 
First team all university while your squad is benchin locally 
Don't mention joke to me, aiyyo dem niggaz ain't atomic 
Ain't the comic niggaz gutsy, after the disembowelin 
Don't fuck around, I eat out with your shorty with the crew 
and she be late for head, she want a tape and dreads 
and thought of you, a little stinger 
My shit'll bring the epitome of bitterly jealous 
Forever living crazy minded trying to tell us 
how you do it on the power-U, it's simple shit'll get props 
Don't let me bring it God I swing it hard like little kid bops 
So front I keep the tone vexin, but to the heads 
stay pleasant to the ears just think of Lauryn Hill on phone sexin 
[J-Treds] 
Relentless poetic rhyme never ceases infinity 
Forever smokin the mic lyric contact I be open 
Naturally high and no need to pass the Dutchie 
I'm the living circle circle dot dot, nobody can touch me 
At my post, the most high exalted, mind blower 
When I rap it it's strictly 'I can't believe he just said that shit' 
Material crews, who can't think straight sober 
My flows over your head, I enjoy the aerial view 
Focus from the bird's eye, in my scenario, of dominance 
Filth eatin weaklings, we're bumRussian/rushin like dirty communists 
Raisin, my Iron Curtain revealin my words the gospel 
No apples or giant serpents, the enlightened apostle 
J-Treds, I lace heads like tennis players top seeded 
Not meanin to cause a racket, or front the menace 
My words speak for themselves, so feel me 
Cause on the mic I've got more presence 
than attendence in a class of schizophrenics, hear hear 
Drink to that pick up raps, intoxicating 
Got your craving my living proof, mixture of speech and wine 
To' up from just the flow but pass the liquor it's over 
Henny dead even when twisted I get open like Venetian blinds 
Company Flow, the fire in which you burn slow 
I remain Indelible 
J-Treds, Juggaknotz, to touch the flame you ought not 
I remain Indelible 
[El-P] 
Check check check check check check 
I the Don Digital, slash, piranha morph 
Alongside poor terrible surgeons, who blur comic perspectives 
and wonder how to get bent, that flaming Malatov shit 
Unstoppable object hits unmovable wall and space split 
This rogue cherub got his own twisted agenda, catch that 
Walkin on flatlines, you witness me grow WAY beyond corporate control 
Let them eat cake, cause I introduce myself as a mistake 
Slipped through the quills with a serrated barb stabbed, sharp in the 
gut 
Now we can all become Lord of the Flies 
when this industry sees it's demise 
Hold it up and try to destruct you get zapped with dead eyes 
The five factions giganti the fuck up and get touched 
The group hugs you received from your support group 
can't protect you from the bumrush 
I'm known to slip arsenic mickies and talk shoot then reform 
With an unprecedented fierceness, display these powers of Storm 
I wasn't born in a manger but I still received three gifts 
Alphabetically listed they're Big Juss, Mr. Len, and I 
See the field creatures scurry, I the killer, caution 
Try to merk off of the pile but you choked on my motherfuckin portion 
Spade within my excrement bitch parody 
Your insanity is my clarity, not to mention convention 
is a great war weapon, disguised under the guise of institutionalism 
but still prison, the bad batch of jism 
Who stands, who falls, this is the one the DJ calls lick the ass crack 
On the wack I keep tabs like Timothy Leary and/or ASCAP 
The iron lung is now rustable, you're overrated 
As in smoking dust or sonic contracts that haven't been thoroughly 
debated 
Got my name up in your mouth like cock or gingivitis 
when every rhyme becomes the official new blueprint for wannabe 
writers 
Catch a smack to the face on principle 
Even when I say nothing it's a beautiful use of negative space 
Indelibles is invincible, El-P don't forget the fuckin name 
Come on Columbo I know you figured this shit out, nobody sounds the 
same 
[Bigg Jus] 
It gives me great pleasure when true elements get together 
and lace the track rough enough to withstand, any type of weather 
If you want it I got it, chemically hemming up the seams 
with a poly-epoxy type of a mixture that be, fatal if you sniff it 
These, stupid ones pop the microdots 
then lean into the sound's religion, watch these styles straight box 
you up 
Coming with clean concise thoughts, penetrating patterns 
Not beyond your comprehension but ejected wide beyond the barrel 
Yo, catch the rarest glimpses of the planet once known as Earth 
that gravitated, before inner violence heated it up, then it burnt 
It be these two style slide niggaz who will rock off 
any beat you push 
Cell Therapy Down South Goodie Mob and Special Ed's The Bush 
It's like this, for the niggaz who got caught sleepin and didn't know 
It be these four actors crazy kings, worlds to revolve around CoFlow 
Coming at you in a blazing orange hunting vest thirty yard night scope 
first day of deer hunting, you got scoped out like the foreign Juss 
Not the type of nigga to steal any scene too long son 
I might lace you, leave the EP evidence and then I'm gone

Видео-клип к песне The Fire In Which You Burn

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