Text: Souls Of Mischief. Trilogy: Conflict, Climax, Resolution. Airborne Rangers.

[Opio]
Rap slash out these battleship torpedoes that'll rip through
your fragile ego, ransack your evil empire like I was Genghis
The Khan/con artist, fiendish, on target, laser beam shift
Trackin your movements like The Pentagon
Disarm the meanest lookin studio prankster
Endangered, we airborne rangers with the broken language
Absorbin blows every game I strength (What?...)
The Chinese connection game of death
You might see me in the reflection in the chain on his neck
Controllin these mics while he aimin his Tek
Couldn't even hold it still cos his hands was all wet
Said we a threat cos we the heaviest
And with a strobe light in his progress you'll never be fresh
You can't murderlise a survivalist
Fool we thrive on this shit, the third eye is too swift

[Tajai]
All we gotta do is provide the music, ugh
Don't need a Lac on Deez to make your bitch hop on my lap
and lap on these, lavishin please don't tease
To all these way-below-average MCs
You gon' stay below, don't wish, that's just how it's gon' be
My style is on levels unattainable, recyclable and reusable
but not biodegradable so don't confuse em
They last eternal, evil gas that's acid turned
When I spit it, unmatched fashion over da riddim
Unabashedly, leave sights only extreme sides of gassing
Mic mastery, necessary steps to make you genuflect
I reflect the genuine and accept
nothing less than your respect in excess
I wasn't expecting the success that I met
When I grabbed my shit and left command
Won't let it get too ahead, I got a check on that
Check you spice rack, it's certain elements you lack

[Tajai & Opio]
We combust when we contact
Come correct with the contract
Show respect when we stomp packs
You get cut for the combat
Got the specs of your launchpad
Snatch ya bitch when we rock that
Interception, she out back
Undressed off the twamp sack, blessed off the cognac
Take her back, we don't want that, no not that

[A-Plus]
I don't rap for the money but I'm lovin that it pays well
Sometimes I kick a strange tale, make your brain swell
Souls tighter than lifers sittin in the same cell
I never listen to the drama that a dame sell
I'm tryin to make that mail so I sought the game well
I know the spell from the rattle of a snake's tail
When a hard nigga spray and the enemies lampale
I'm witta female that was waitin, make her exhale
I'm Double X-L like the magazine is
And fuck the drugs but I can show you what a rappin fiend is
Perhaps my team is NOT the type to act the meanest
but on my birth, you're just a falling Earth, you gettin smacked to Venus
Stings are jackin the penis so your label accept
cos you ain't able to rap or able to wreck
I'm claimin respect with rappin that'll strangle your neck
Claim you're a vet but still I'm makin you jet, shakin the set

[Phesto]
I'm unique with this on three hundred and fifty cubic inches
of horse-powered fuel injection, positive traction
Throttlin action, my prerogative's idlin
Mind bogglin speed tobogganin streets of Oakland
Old English Old English, the kingpin
Swingin like Charlie Miggetts,
high wire torch, swallowin, spine tinglin
Break your vertebrae's with permanent turnicans
Firm burn your sternum like nerve gas and germ, warfare
Hor, d'oerve you serve, your Sequoia Heights in Stirling
Minted, quartered your terms is centric
Circumventin the industry
While your fate remains in the chains of imagery portrayed
And mass media hype, we smash media rights through mics
Crack through the core at the speed of the light
I'm [?????] [????] [????], graffiti on mics
The beaters are white, forever sweet and precise for me to ignite

[Tajai & Opio]
UGH!
We combust when we contact
So come correct with the contract
Show respect when we stomp packs
You get cut for the combat
Got the specs of your launchpad
Snatch ya bitch when we rock that
Interception, she out back
Undressed off the twamp sack, blessed off the cognac
Take her back, we don't want that, no not that
Never that

We combust when we contact
So come correct with the contract
Show respect when we stomp packs
You get cut for the combat
Got the specs of your launchpad
Snatch ya bitch when we rock that
Interception, she out back
Undressed off the twamp sack, blessed off the cognac
Take her back, we don't want that, no not that, ugh