Intro:It's goona be that it's gonna be that shitHook:Lounge homeboy you in the danger zone (x8)Verse 1:Keith murray is this mic phychosisI break your best rappers off thousands of piecesI'm on some other shit splittin' wigs with my penmanshipKick flows harder then the music so feel in your head and chestAnd pass it to the nextThey gave me 5 mic checks and all due respectSo please fill it up and check the anitfreezeCause this nigga keith drop mad degreesI launch tomahawk missles when i talk with permiscuesusIntelligence like mr. rompFrom new york unto the world overI walk mc's like jesus walked on waterAs my airy frequency reigns through the galaxyI easily gets busy and takes 3I'm the nicest mc on this side of the pennisulaStuck in the perimeter like a ninjaHookVerse 2:The def squad mc's is shittin' on your new transmittersNot quiters now forgettersRunnin' deep like rivers (word 'em up) what isMy delivers, which is, givin' crews the shiversI'm like a mad scientist with this sonI concock some shit that'll bust the sunI got the stunky funky illest funk flowFor the glamorous scandalous world of radioSo how you want? headcreads or ceelo?I gets root deep like cavity cretesRockin' motherfuckers directly to sleepA tybarrious rebel without a pause for the causeAnd no claws the style is the son of noisePeace to the hardcore the outlaw rawBug youngblood thugs, strong as? 64 ounce jugsIn the realms of the dangerHookVerse 3:Bust the contrast and how i forecastSupersonic hyperphonic goin' on that ass paragraphWith the million dollar bionic metaphoric lyrical mathGenerating off the chronicBy cooling in the dark path and the drug rath of the athAnd the ill shit that i craftIt's labeled as sick logic to the critics of the didicksBut they don't know the half of the halfThe apperatus status of a maddisistI conqure up a new style puffin' ganja, over the hookCausin' more trama with my mouth then the stealth bomberKilling every style in the bookLike it's goin' outta style tomorrowMy style is coming from down south and cross yonderI drop the dope shit for masses and non-believersLike spiral passes to butter finger wide recieversAs my photo type sound gays leis and hoes my style probeTo the farthest reaches of the globePayin' dues got me cockin' tools, you fuckin' foolsI'm rippin' crew and no exception to the the god damn rulesThis is dangerHook
