[Black Thought]  It's jazz - hip-hop hangin in my head heavy  Malik said "Riq, you know the planet ain't ready  for the half" when we comin with the action pack  On some Dundee shit representin the outback  Yo, we do it like this (All the way live, from 2-1-5)  You witnessin the 5th Dynasty family click (All the way live, from 2-1-5)  Across the map, one time for ya (All the way live, from 2-1-5)  It's time to react to respond to react to respond (All the way live, from 2-1-5)    [Chorus]  We settin it from Southside, pushin this up North  From Illadelphian reps, to fly points across the map  Bring it back to Respond/React  Then bring it back to Respond/React to this    [Verse One: Black Thought]  The attractive assassin, blastin the devil trespassin  Master gettin cash in an orderly fashion  Message to the fake nigga flashin  Slow up Ock, before you get dropped and closed like a caption  Fractional kids don't know the time for action  Styles got the rhythm that of an Anglo-Saxon  Round of applause then avalanche of clappin  [BLOW] that's what happen, now what's your reaction  We heavyweight traction, pro-pornographin  Specialize in science and math and, original black man  Bustin thoughts that pierce your mental  The fierce rippin your sacks and  Vocal toe to toe impeccable splittin your back son  Simple as addition and subtraction  Black Though, the infinite relaxed one  Shorties say they love it with a passion  Bring the international charm, see a squad I harass    [Verse Two: Malik B]  REACT, you best adapt when I sling this rap  Another chapter, before when I have to trap ya  Map your whole path out  Go get your crowd so we can clap out  I drive down streets and take back route- positionin  When I'm in your system like glycerin  Fans listenin, from Michigan to Switzerland  Malik be blitzed again - on the station with the discipline  Solicitin, sometimes illicit or explicit with it and  from the deep end where the hills are steep  Nobody cares to speak, a land where life is cheap  The street mentality, mixed with the intellect  Personality, hell where I dwell as well  Niggas rebellious, bodies are found down in the cellars  My man caught a shot to the stomach, now who want it?  Confronted by these dusty blunted - cats who act like  they don't know that the fact is that they're bein hunted  A process of elimination  Activate your mind with the stimulation   Enter your zone with penetration  I've seen more horror than Bram Stroker  Strip your broad or play poker, then drink mocha  The sometimes socializer, the joke despiser  You woke the wiser, dealin with the Roots vocalizer  Up in your flesh from South Philly to West  I stampede your style, I'll compile then bless    [Chorus - 2X]    [Verse Three: Black Thought]  Hey yo, I'm just a lyricist, a chemist of the hemp  The beat pimp, the ill Philly resident  That's far from hesitant, corrupt like a President  Never benevolent but poetically prevalent  Cooler than peppermint  The Lieutenant for niggaz talkin bout represent  No doubt, it's obviously evident I get bent  Far from temporary son I'm very permanent  Hittin MC's like an intoxicant, sent to prevent  Monopoly is my intent, the means is what I invent  This mental murder pay the rent  Lyrically I'm the dominant ingredient, the swift extravagant  Smooth lubricant, down with the M-the-Ill-itant  (ch-ch-ch...) That's the sound of the Dynasty chant  We surround your camp, assumin the war stance  And bring it from the chest, now let's dance    [Verse Four: Malik B]  M-ILL-ITANT, feel the 5th guerilla chant  Y'all talk about bodies but you would not kill a ant  My skill is amp, would peel a nigga like a stamp  Caliber is of Excalibur now you be damp  When I operate a crowd will copulate my game  I make a womb populate and 2-1-5th is the stock of hate  Peep the logistics, slump your squad of misfits  They all get they wrists slit, blast your ass if you insist it  Leave no trace so there's no trace for ballistics  Turn your soul and body to statistics  In particular I've got that extracurricular  Squad in the stash who could be stickin ya  Slip and they vickin ya  Harass your po-lice commissioner  Don't like chicks with weaves talking 'bout, "I need conditioner"  That shit's deader than niggaz with a mortioner  A jenazah, up in your flesh like plasma  Take away your last breath when you got asthma  Then meet Bad Lieu down at the plaza  Hip-hop extravaganza, tell your man I slump him with a stanza  Now "Who's the Boss?" not Tony Danza  My force not green but the force is obscene  P.O. took a piss test it came out not clean  Brody with my man Miz-Moose and Hakeem  My squad from deuce-four up to West Oak Lane  All the way to Takahwana and Frankfurt they know the name  It's like that... M-Ill-itant    [Black Thought]  M-Ill-itant, Eric Al he hostile, Bad Lieutenant  Check it out, (??) style check it out    [Chorus - repeat w/ ad libs]