f/ Islord, Ruthless Bastards, T.M.F.

[Islord]
Aiyo I want all y’all niggaz out there in this rap shit
Claimin’ y’all rappers
Y’all niggaz ain’t no fuckin’ MC’s
KnowwhatI’msayin’, son?
Cuz once you step into the chamber
Cuz we dealin’ with the 7th Chamber..

Aiyo
Witness this homocide lyrical specialist
Once I slide on the set like Mt. Everest
Avalanches, causin’ total mayhem
In this rap industry, towards any non-descript rapper
Who has the strongest heart, and dares to challenge the God?
Dart for dart, that’s the wrong move
Like one cat with a red shirt, stumblin’ in a problem
Ten cats with blue shirts, each one of ’em
Lugered out with clips filled to the brim with hollow points
Cuz I’m on some, fuck all y’all R&B artist-es
Thinkin’ y’all MC’s, y’all best to Run 4 Cover
And throw ya bulletproof helmets on ya head
Enough said..

[Infrared]
I spit warfare, real shit niggaz like to hear
Infrared from Ruthless, nigga, crack them beers
Twist the ’dro, put the clip in the fo’
Cock it back, put one in the head, these niggaz don’t know?
Then let ’em know how we comin’
Deep, we keep shook niggaz runnin’
You cowards is afraid of my power, ain’t holdin’ nuttin’
Lemme show you somethin’, ’bout this rap shit
First of all if you ain’t spittin’ acid, you goin’ backwards
These Bastards attack shit, fabulous, fatherless
Marvelous, Shaolin niggaz from stompin’ wood
Killarm’, T.M.F. connect with Ruthless
Challenge new generation, nigga, we the best
We out for this cheddar cheese
You better freeze if we enemies
If ya life’s on the line you better squeeze
Yo I’m tellin’ these wannabeez, about the ho’s
Come out ya shoes, we ain’t got nuttin’ to lose

[Trife]
Aiyo I floss like a red Porsche beamin’ in the sunset
You made a dumb bet fuckin’ with these young vets
Who bumped heads with the hardest and build with the smartest
Five artists, you can’t do nuttin’ to part us
Niggaz is garbage that either get bagged up
Cuz their style’s ragged up lookin’ like sad pups
You’ll be jacked up, weakened with your eyes half shut
’Til you had enough cuz fuckin’ with us is bad luck
The temptation of pussy be hard to pass up
So before I slide in I test the cat and strap up
Is there a question? You gotta ask us
Don’t be afraid, but on my behalf you’re gettin’ played
And where you was at, you shoulda stayed
Now you search for aid, no one to save you
And all your so-called men betrayed you
They wantin’ to talk and work deals under the table
Passin’ ’em CREAM, gold watches and large cables
They snaked you, like the serpent
Turn the lights off and close the curtain
Sellin’ their soul to a merchant
I got niggaz, scared to, meet me in person
Searchin’, like the Internet, I got ’em surfin’

[Chorus: Tommy Whispers]
Now Born, Port Richmond, Killah Hill
Stapleton, West Brighton, Jung