* not 100% sure this is the mc's name      [chorus]   We got them, sledge, (? ) ruff heads (check the flow)   King tee's on the set (check the flow)   When niggaz try to get high-tech (check the flow)   The dialect's on the flex      [sledge]   Watch this, when I shine I bring rain   Clouds, bust storms, yo, this ain't the norm   When I perform, I get you up out your seat   Get down with the real deal skills, then chill   Then show your ass how to get amped, then lamp   Stretch, flex, then tackle what's next   Cause mc's, that luck up, need to hush up   Who can't brush up, on their rap style, shut the fuck up   Then duck from the one that gets buck-wild   I chop your ass in half, with a smile   Big grin, all teeth, for those who got beef   Fuckin with me ock, you're six feet deep   Down in the ground, alone with no sound   While I'm up here chillin, top billin   And illin, on all those, who oppose   I wanna take one more shot, strike a pose, uhh!      [chorus]      [king tee]   Smash, here comes the one that talks trash   To garbage mc's, who try to diss me   And my crew - the ill ville animal cannibal   Backbreakers, government amputators   Bounce to this if you think you know the hits   And all you gassed-up critics, put the brakes on the shit   Cause I'm tired of this, and I'm tired of that   Motherfuckers sayin king tee's shit was wack   But in fact, my rhymes crack backs and make money stacks   By the truckload, now let's go for the gold   So strap on your seatbelt yo and let's go   And get down, to the sound that burns quick   Cause I'm about to burn rubber, on this number   And any mc who claims his style is legit   Suckers wanna try me? (I know not why tee)   I light that ass up like the 4th of july g, uhh!      [chorus]      [t] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo   [s] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo   [t] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow yo   [s] check the flow, check the flow, check the flow      [sledge]   Capital s-l, crooked letter humpback fuck that   Thump that, shit that's never wack   Cause this goes out too all the niggaz that we rushin   To hear the shit I'm bustin over ruptured percussion   It ain't my fault that I'm layin niggaz down like asphault   And blow your ass away like chalk, dust   Then crush your monkey-ass unto the side   Cause wrecked dialect is causin lyrical genocide      [king tee]   I stress facts like irs wants tax   From anyone claimin that they're livin, kind of fat   You see, I could get sick in the thick of shit   I turn my toes up, when it goes up, my foe's butt   Hey nigga back-steps, even you can get hit   I'm more crankier than a bitch on the shit!   Niggaz get heated cause they just got defeated   By the two man team, the sledge and the king, uhh!      [chorus]