Next we are havin' a very very big group   By the Limo, I like the Limo      Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol   Your mind, body, and soul   For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode   Big, bad, and bold B boys of old      Many styles we hold, let the story be told   Whether platinum or gold, we use breath control   So let the beat unfold, intro on drum roll   We be the lik like E, Tash, and J Lo   We harass niggas like we was the po po   We can rule the world without Kurtis and still Blow      Finesse, from S P to Casio   Your jams ain't deaf, you ain't fresh, you're so so   If you don't know us by now you'll never know   You set that mood when we groove and prove a show   The name of the game is survive and prove your flow   You can't out take Jurassic syllable   'Cause it's survival of professional radio   Stop and comprehend and heed the words of my pen   Survival of professional poetical Highlanders      Soup, you plan on rocking something fierce? Oh, am I   Zaakir's the name, the A K A super   The verbal acupuncture from the dope old schooler   I used to be the brother for others that used to dumb on   Now they be the lovers of brothers they can't front on   Put me in the mix, L P 12-inch      S P, the elegant, poetic pestilence   I'm carbonated, the Fanti-confederated   Highly commemorated, and the most celebrated   For connecting it word like verb subject to the predicate   Plus I got the etiquette   To keep it moving, and showing cats how it's done   'Cause it's the verbal combat, position number one      We keep it beaming like a beacon   If it's clearance that you're seeking   Whether black or Puerto Rican   People back us when we're speaking   We got the kind of rhymes that get you ready for the weekend   To the mass amount of legions that came for party pleasing   Our temperature is freezing, all kind of different regions   The rhythm is the reason you're checking for what we've done   Please son, our thesis, will rip your crew in pieces   Your rhymes ain't right, homeboy, you ain't in season      Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol   Your mind, body, and soul   For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode   Big, bad, and bold B boys of old      Yo, yo, well it's the angelic man relic clan repellent   My plan parent manuscripts withstand bullets   Flashing like a Japan tourist, we command pure hits   While you cramming to understand these contraband lyrics   My fam submits to pray, 5 times a day   Climbing into your mind with live rhyme display   J 5 finds a way to remain supreme   Coming verbally Hardison as if my name was Kadeem      Ayo my team Dreamworks without Spielberg or spill words   Communicate from the earth throughout the universe   I transmit, transcripts, transcontinental lyrics   Deeply rooted in the spirit   Up, I love the power of words, nouns and verbs   The pen and the sword, liquid stick on award      No folklore or myths in my penmanship   The Panther Scholar Warriors is what I present, uh   Verbally decapitating those against a   Jihad [Foreign Content] words make sense   You gots to get up on your vocab, you gots to have vocab   Letters makes words, and sentences makes paragraphs      Quality control   Small 7 Tuna fish in the dock fish roll   Like producers of the highest quality rather   Can I do smart      Yo, I make the pen capsize, the verbal with the planted eyes   Planning knives every pair that I utilize   Spit juice, crack blood from your tooth   Inflict truths, speak Allah's 99 Attributes   You baby M C's drink Pedialyte   My underground doesn't like you, the media might   But we the defeat will change that   As we bridge gaps in this lyrical grudge match, brothers we slug back      Yeah, we bless tracks with the help of a raw rap   Inprinted like poor tracks all over your brain rack   My mental maneuver will clear and steer right through ya   We Grand like Puba, understand that we move ya   Ayo, my rhythm reveal roller coaster real deal   Revolutionize with active build   I plant my dreams in the field and wait to harvest my skills   For the starving M C, hungry trying to get the meal      Ayo my quality control, captivates your party patrol   Your mind, body, and soul   For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode   Big, bad, and bold B boys of old      We are goin' to take a trip back in time   Are you ready to get into time machine   OK fasten your seat belts   Are you ready? Let's go