Text: Celph Titled & Buckwild. Nineteen Ninety Now. There Will Be Blood.

[feat. Sadat X, Grand Puba, O.C., AG, Diamond D]

[Intro:]
Can I do it? (Yeahh!) Can y'all do it? (Yeahh!) ALL together now! (AAAAAAAAAAHH)

[Scratching:]
"Oooh, ya love it"

[Celph Titled:]
If me and some rap faggot have static
We can go to war, at your show you'll need flap jackets
Strapped with automatics?
No we use bats and hatchets
Give the microphone a drug test, I spit crack at it (for crack addicts)
Approach your A&R with an AR
Based on, a true story, I spit H-bombs, in every eight bars
When Tony put his face in that snow
I was writin' them flavor flows
And yeah, even my worst haters know that I'm a player fo' sho'
They be like, "Yeah, I'm with ya Titled"
Bring bitches back to the pad like a menstrual cycle
You walk around like you some kind of thuggy guy
I know you ain't Diddy but I can make you see through Puffy eyes

[Sadat X:]
You know my styles boy, you know what I'm workin' with
Fire arms of various calibers penetrate
I'm the hate that breeds hate
Nah, let me illustrate
Time stands still on a day that's slow
For me it ain't about the show it's about the proof
Blow the air from the roof
And anything movin' this is a stick up
If you fiends even hiccup you layin' flat
You wanna face this rage?
Somebody threw some meat in the cage
Wear armor
You can call Obama
Call your momma
I breed armies, make men out of boys
Tactical General Patton from BK to Manhattan
You frontin'
You lame, treat your whole squad the same

[Grand Puba:]
I don't play when it comes to this
I rule the mic with the iron fist
Compile data then I make the list
Grab the wack, move they ass to trash
Then empty trash so they don't exist
Since vinyl
Words flow like herds of rhinos
Leave your ass trampled when I'm runnin' on the sample
A showdown at sundown, these verb-als I rundown
Will leave your ass dumbfound, you thought you was gunned down
Rhyme style mean like a dope fiend lean
Cut against the green and you face the guillotine
Grand Puba, there's no way you can dodge
Better off tryin' your luck at Las Vegas at Mirage

[A.G.:]
Been through ups and downs, never touched the ground
Like girls with the big butts, never fuck with clowns
Let music take over me
Words flow through me
Truly the best that's why niggas keep quotin' me
I'm the baddest nigga livin', average niggas don't stand a chance
I danced in France, put hands and feets on beats
Put fans in trances
Amsterdam is, a place where I sin
Get that Yen in Japan kid
The Swiss Mountains, got a Swiss accountant
Chick with a fountain pen, keep my chips amountin' to somethin'
My grind is unparalleled
While y'all niggas keep on horsin' around like carousels

[O.C.:]
I'm mind over
As a matter of fact
There's no practice needed
See, I'm matched bar none
When it's all said and done up
The last man standin' is proof
Who has the biggest brass and bubbas for crafty
McGuyver
E'vryday things around me work to my advantage
Create the plan at random
For every livin' soul on the planet understand this
As some author's say, "An heir is apparent"
I'm that oil piece, priceless art
There's no biddin' on it, auction block
Fortune of Fort Knox
Off top or written
Each album takes precision
Knocks out solidify win the fight over decision

[Diamond D:]
I got a flow so cold niggas call me chilly
Don't ever press up fam, I'll smack you silly
If I'm all out of Dutches, I pack the Philly
On my J.O.B., I mack the millis
And I'm all about stackin' my chips
Gettin' dome in the back of the whips
Start smackin' them hips
All that slick talk will just gets you smacked in the lips
Game time fourth quarter, back to the blitz
You can't move me, shake me, break me, make me
Be somethin' I'm not
Niggas wanna snake me
I'm right by escape key, writin' X
Big Diam still writin' the checks
Holla at me