• Aiyyo, first things first
    It's time to shake ground in the eighth round
    Box battle and break down
    For the beak in the rhyme tone
    jump in the cyclone
    S-T-Y-L-E-S, yes I know
    Give the rap phene vaccine
    packed red beam
    Put 'em up, what the ********
    You plucked a bad seed
    Off the wall, spittin' the guerilla tag team
    What's up now, duck down stuff that can't breathe

    [Ryu:]
    Yo- you know the routine, the demon effect
    Please, don't step, you wanna be one of my pet peeves
    The more beef the better; sound gay
    But you all wanna sleep together, ok
    In the club we gon' sneak berrettas
    Why not? We got so much street credit, the ********' police let us
    Now that's bullshit, cause we don't pack heat
    So come and get your head crackin' up at me

    [Chorus:]
    Kick it- movin' it's on now
    Making it punk loud
    Shaking the buck wild
    Rapin' the punk style
    Fakin' the funk pal
    Dunk watch the punk
    What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down
    Click (click) pow (pow) knocked (knocked) out (out)
    What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
    Hu- Hu-
    I'm like Hu-hu-

    [Ryu:]
    Hold it down, never give in
    Styles ever get limbs
    Or whether you want it to end
    Dirty seringe, I murder 'em again
    97 serving them sins
    Uh 30 your friends get knocked out, turbulent wind
    Hopped out, what you want, big verb in the gin
    I'm a fish; you can tell by the flippers or fins
    C'mon

    [Takbir:]
    Yo- I got a rock style
    Pivot the offspring and joke with 'em
    With a distorted guitar string
    Who am i? Rushin' what leg? who and Tak?
    Pushin' your bed hotter than Quebec in July
    Area 51, stereo, rive gun live
    Here we go, S-O-B drop some
    For the kids in the hall with the new block tape
    Blast from both angles like boom dock saint
    So get up get up and let the sound hit ya
    Snap it's already ya style picture
    (Lot electrical)

    [Chorus]

    [Tak:]
    Who the hell wear splittin' the belly up on a selfish
    Shinnin' in your style playin' the fell blitz
    Drillin' your brain, like rap and video games
    Feel the seringe for the styles that stickin' in your brain

    [Ryu:]
    Yo- what kind of s**t is he on
    Really is styles, really be on
    C'mon punk ******** off; You really gotta be gone
    Ripped out of your brain
    Pissed covered in s**t to diss this S-O-B game
    Son of a b***h
    I'ma start killin' for kicks
    There ain't an air force 1 inn the globe I can't fig, get it?
    I'm sick with it, when I spit the venom
    And it drip's up in 'em
    And it get's the women in a
    Quick dilemma; We can settle it now
    And I don't know who did it but they said it was styles