Now this is the year (that we came to rock)
We make hip hop (hip hop) blam it out your box
Or your radio, aerial view of the situation
On the station, yeah the TV, CD says (uh)
I vote the people for Prez
Fuck that rich little dummy and the shit that he says
It's just puppetry (fuckery), haven't you heard?
The shit is absurd, don't trust a motherfuckin' word

If you could believe, that what we got up our sleeve
Will help the people achieve, then maybe relieve some tension
Gettin global respect like the Geneva Convention
But America can't front on this Perceptionist
With a rep for swift, infectious hits
Comin' from Ak, and Fakts, plus check for Lif

That's the name, rap's the game
Fakts will scratch your frame
Funny, you're to leave and you're slain

Motivation the brain and the legs and the hips, the ass (ass)
Keep movin in unison like elementary class
All to recess, P's rock the beat best
We got the crowd sweaty like an Uncle Luke Freak Fest
But no smut, just beats and cuts
(And mad rappers on the mic gettin' fucked up)
Yeah (yeah), politicians gettin told to shut up
If you with me in the place, make noise y'all, what up?

Uh, yeah, yeah
It's the DJ y'all, DJ Fakts One, what up y'all?
Yeah (yeah, yeah), what

Now in the front, in the back, (and on the sides)
Be cool, don't wanna see homicide
Let the drama slide, right outta your mind, unwind (Wile out)
Open the cage and let some styles out

Yo a hoodied up crew piles out the tour vehicle
Hook up the set and rock a show, that's unbelievable
We known to do the inconceivable, rockin' a free or two
Our final goal is distant, we're committed to see it through
No gimmicks and don't sweat the critics
Every major city get a couple yearly visits (yeah)
So whether you in Dallas, L.A., or Minneapolis
Prepare for the intensity of these lyrical strategists

Yo ho hoes, are the popular scums
Some MC's are nice but the keyword's "some"
Others suffer from suckadom (uh)
Some succumb to a rough rhyme and some powerful drums
Run, to your set, then smash the TV
But just do it on the count of one, two, three (bash)
Now there's glass all over your dome
I enter your home, nigga it's Videodrome
Gun in my gut, what? Want a flow? Here's one from LS Thumbago
Really didn't want it though

I'ma throw down the profound, flows found, nowhere else but here
Let's get it clear
You want the people screamin' with their hands in the air?
Look no further, we here (here)

Copyright: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Writer(s): J Haynes, Jaime Meline, Jared K Bridgeman