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[Featuring Where] 
Intro/Chorus: 
As the world keeps turning  chronic keeps burning 
(This ain't no) street sermon  these niggas are determined 
*Repeat* 
Verse 1:Where 
I flow like CD's in the deck 
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect 
Protect ya arm  pitch from the funk 
I deodirise the musty  ya rhymes are crusty  you can't bust G 
So leave me alone I'm in the zone 
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get blown 
Some niggas say that nigga Where is gone 
But I'm low in the cut and gotta microphone 
Are you gone bust or play bones? 
You motherfuckin clone, get off that nigga's style and get'cha own 
It's Miscellane and it's on again 
For the niggas that slept, they shoulda stayed in step 
And kept ya big fuckin mouth shut 
Chorus 
Verse 2:Where 
I woke up with a stomach ache, headache, back ache 
Advil, Tylenol, Peptol, slept so long realised my world is wrong 
My world is gone like disco 
Blowin up Cisco and in my Cammo 
Standin in back of me was my soul 
Thinking of the easiest way to get a bank roll 
Knowledge is urban-able, exhaust manifold 
A tar can of hos to lubricate my system quick 
Shaky bitches off the dick 
Cos she got a vice grip on the flow from my lips 
I'm slow but equipped with the proper tools 
Show me the one talkin shit so I can drop a fool 
I'm out to glow a nigga roll if he think he Mr CREAM 
Come back on the scene and smoke a phillie, G 
I really dream of gettin mine now let me tell you what's silly 
Me, buckin with my team is murder one 
I heard a gun bustin shots (SHOTS!), down the block (BLOCK!) 
I guess a nigga gettin what he got (GOT!) 
Shit is heavy like a medicine ball and broke niggas to smoke niggas 
I'll fuck one for y'all, they made ya last phone call 
To a trick that didn't even care 
Cos she was gettin fucked somewhere, you're stuck in there 
Now you wanna bust, nigga, now you wanna kill, nigga (Nigga) 
Nigga how ya feel? (Nigga) 
You can't try to be real (You can't try to be real) 
Shit is for real 
Chorus 
Verse 3:Where 
I'm cooler than most, but I got the shorter temper 
And I'm cooler than foes that don't know how it goes 
Let's take it back to the first side 
When you was a new jack and jockin my new track 
But you was wrong, didn't know about the big long 
Head-strong, nicknamed Dav from off the school yard 
Witta teenage group I'm turnin loots to tracks 
Me and my niggas like (These tracks are laced with bomb weed and tight 
lyrics) 
You wanna know what the hos used to do 
When me and my crew came bustin through 
All sorts of blushins brew 
(A neighbourhood find, a gift too swift, Miscellane is the crew) 
Underground till my brown eyed balls turned blue 
This is for the bitches and niggas that wanna front 
I smoke on, I broke on till I spoke on 
Miscellane packin shows like Farrakhan 
Where is on another level with two niggas that's on the same plateau 
Now that's three times your tightest flow 
And three times ya tightest track, three times your fattest sack 
Three times is clever (BUCK!) 
Chorus x 2 
Outro: 
Thou shalt rest in grief who lay buried in the belt 
Barely included work, leaves bodies scarred and hurt 
To art in hell, where the next man dwells 
The place with stankin pussy and crack rock dwells

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