John Cena]   The untouchable cat whose style is right   I can be mistaken for the smooth and silent type   My violence bites tight like it was vampire's teeth   I'm hammerin chief, opponents with beef, you're put to sleep   My radical brain, will run your terrain, I'm comin again   It's simple and plain, you're hurtin, there's no numbin the pain   Warpin your frame to convex with ill techs   Still flex, kill specs on cassette decks   Mic checks, and tight reps, collect all live bets   We'll see how bright the lights get   The illest attack, I fight with artillery jacket   Physically smacked then verbally humbled   You stumble and fumble, so I gain posession   Music moves in cycles, natural progression   Thuganomics lesson is taught when records are bought   Analyzed for lies and fillers, nowadays   Gorillas make scrilla if the market's correct   All you need is a hook, and a hand to collect   Lack cred but respect MC's before me   Don't blast the back heat but the streets, can't ignore me   Hands nice, I rock your wigpiece, leave your hard rep soft   Just like when Miami left the Big East..      [Chorus *scratched*]   bu bu bu bu bu Bust that   Y'all know my steez, yo we raisin the bar   Assassinate the mainstream   Y'all know my steez, Trademarc and John Cena   Assassinate the mainstream   Y'all know my steez, yo we raisin the bar   Assassinate the mainstream   Y'all know my steez, Trademarc and John Cena   Assassinate the mainstream      [Trademarc]   I calculate between the hi-hat, the bassline      The slideback, the scene decides that, Trademarc   designed raps through divine contact   The synapse to climb a syntax error/era, define clever   We find Trademarc's photo ID below the letters   Your rhymes are general played, minimal blank   Your eyes was blinded by the signs of federal banks   You lost your focus of function   'Member back when MC's used to spit and say (shit) that meant somethin   The mainstream remained clean   Then the corporate industry became the same dream   And I leaned back below the scene   Mappin out the future warfare schemes   To sweep through the streets lethal, to meet you   Delete too, editorial restrictions   Cause labels need candy-ass rappers so the populars can listen   Not the caste system   The last talented cats that lost they status   Real raps end up gratis tracks on mixtapes that never sell   Cause executives and marketing schemes   Designed rims, hoes and music, and bed in jail   I know the veterans can tell, I see through the image   Mainstream acts is timid   I want hard beats, basslines, and lyrics that's vivid   A voice within it, tellin me real rap is comin back and boy it's livid   I want it, I breathe it, I live it   I cornered the scene and I bring destruction   You ain't worth your weight, never mind the cost of post-production   Introduction of Trademarc, the poet laureate   Through the diction of reason   Rhyme forever, but born out the 7 iller {?} to beat in      [Chorus] - repeat to fade