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Verse One: Malik B 

Yo, I'm every MC, it's all in me 
That's the way it is, when ya gotta be 
Indeed as I distort I proceed, I need 
Gettin hotter than sacks of boom, in my room at the Ramada 
Four tanks in your memory banks to fill up 
I provide the static, with scratch to match, while you catch the vibe 
Most can play high post, but yo that don't mean shit 
Because my click'll make a motherfucker sick 
I flips, redder than pork, comin to New York to mix 
[It's Bob Powers] With the snares and kicks to fix 
Rhythmatically, you got ta be, static-y 
Magiccally I appear, spark a L and drink a beer 
With air smooth, takin niggaz loot with dice 
then shoot The Roots, poetic, courageously kinetic 
Vagabond, versatile and various, plus rap styles 
of mine are blunt, pain is in the mind, so I'm fine and five 
Foot seven, inches in height 
My mission to strike mics and lighten your tights 
Ridin in, like lightning 
Flourescent, incandescent, evervescently 
I represent, Foreign Objects and Ill Elements 
Very relevant, plus intelligently managin matter 
that's makin tracks fatter, revolve around 
Saturn like rings and brins swings when I sings with bass 
Then distort up in your face like mace 
Bustin your dreams, I gasp with loaded magazines 
I'm on the rap scene, re-color fellas like a vaccine 
As I, rocks from under blunderin I'm not, lyrically 
Ya getm, shot, get caught so distort with thought, for real 
It's the illest out the Phi, short for Philidelph-iada-fly 
Money makin move fakin I isn't 
Niggaz can nah front, I'm poetically exquisite 
Wicked, with the visit while you're wonderin what is it 
Dig it, yo my mellow um whattup for the night 
[Malik B, get on the mic, get on the mic] 
Like that y'all, and yo I'm flowin, my part of the song 
It's goin, it's goin, it's gone 

Verse Two: Malik B 

Now, go get your dictionary and your Pictionary 
Cause much affliction with my diction friction slips and carries 
Words and hers like some cattle in the steeple 
People, there's no equal, or no sequel 
SO policies, of equalities, get abolished 
Demolished, distortion of the static's gettin polished 
Urges of splurge and words will just be merged 
Together, damn it's quite clever, however 
You never, can sound alike, lyrics don't be poundin like 
These, troops, who be's, Roots 
Insult ya, mellow of culture, rhythmatic vulture 
Approach ya, with Magnetic shit that's Ultra 
I make MC's dangle like a bangle 
Strangle from every angle, my lingo hingles and it jangles 
under Kangols, nahh them niggaz don't want to tangle 
Cause Roots get loose, negroes get juiced like the mango 
To be particular, extra-curricular, for pleasure 
Measure, in any weather, value more than the treasure 
Baby, you say you maybe, then come in to flex 
Now you wonder what's next...

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