* [Verse One] -- from the Show & A.G. "Full Scale EP"  * [Verse Two] -- from the DJ Clue CD "The Professional"    [Verse One]  Yo, my squad is honored like Elijah Muhammad  But I'm God-retarded, ain't no righteousness in this heart of violence  Hard as diamond but I'm in the ruff, listen up  If you ever see me with the Feds you can bet it's in the cuffs  Ain't no snitch in us, bitch in us  Unofficial-ness, everything we outside you wish you was  Official thugs in the drug profession  Drug connections, drug addictions  Still seein the judge for drug possession  The four-D's, all these is more reas'  to either get big, or leave and let live  We the best there is T.S., ain't nobody else  We probably Dove, cause we all way on top of the shelf  I'm lockin your wealth with the master keys, freeze  Don't try to breeze, or I'ma squeeze and blast the back of your knees  Just pass the cheese, please don't test the toaster  My tech'll roast ya body faster than Ferrari's Testarossa  You're gettin closer to death, Reaper's got a hold on your breath  You goin straight to hell as you sell your soul for your flesh  You was posin a threat, now you froze in the bed  Minute ago, you was poppin shit, holdin ya dick  Now what's the problem, you ain't nuttin like you said on your album  I thought you was wildin bustin your guns and runnin the island  You was't violent, you was silent tryin to get college credits  How pathetic, did it to get out of the calisthetics  I'm +Dianetics+ combined with lyrics  My matureness is my insurance  Kill my appearance, I'm a shinin spirit  You gotta fear it, cause every last gem is poison  You gotta cheer it, you can't win you better join em  I'm head-annointin niggas like the Holy Gospel  I'm the only vato loco to smoke you with fire-blowin nostrils  Watch for the toast, when you see it, you better draw yours  Warlords, callin The Giant, it's all yours    [Verse Two]  Fuck all y'all non-believers; I roll with God, the Squad and T.S.  Out with the B.S. we platinum, they even doubted Jesus  Niggas is 85%, I'm 400 solid  Brain-bolic with knowledge, cock-diesel scholars  Holdin it down, walkin around with gold by the pound  Frozen and drowned with diamond boulders all in the crown  Talk of the town, soakin you down wit toast 'til you drown  Ghost you and pound your corpse with a force that'll open the ground  Save the jokes for the clowns, I'm on the serious tip  You keep playin.. and I get furious quick  And now I take you for a walk through the ghetto  Either spark your metal or get outlined in chalk by the devil  I rep the borough that mothered this rap shit, I used to clap shit  Now I just lay back and mack on some mack shit  I used to have to pack a mac in back of the Ac[ura]  Now I relax and stack platinum plaques in my shack  It's like that, but don't think I won't counter act  My niggaz is strapped and quick to lay a bitch on his back  I'm swift with the mac, quicker than Kung Fu  with the reflexes of a cat, and the speed of a mongoose