Take a cupful from your hand Wait for forty days Make a river through the sand 'Til you're called by secret name And the weight of the water Has brought
Liquid, solid, gas, we'll be kickin' ass In any form, or matter, or mass This ain't science class, I know but it's science From the rhyme boss of the
wicked approaches tonight Work It's automatic, static battle star galactic Microhard It's the upgraded, complicated, premeditated Microhard It's the transplanted, peaceful panic, bass
Ten to zero, mushroom cloud Little angel, I've been too good Ditch the halo, for a while Dress to kill, I'll be causing Mass destruction, so shield your
Yo, when the bass thump, the place jump Like it's way crunk, yeah Fake punks get they face lumped Sent to the most high, by the most fit You gotta do,
you discuss who's style is greater In this killing pool you playing it cool like Kyle Jada When y'all ready to rock like Led Zep and Al Qaeda With weapons of mass
'Cause it's not who you are but who you're wear Stay sportin' lashes from the old Massa's Clasps on the neck says, 'Property Of The Masses' And what
blue in the face Fre-fre-fresher than tooth-the-paste You know how we do in the place The crowd accumulates when he's tunin? the bass The fiddle and
Black radio shame, pop rap's to blame Program your playlist to sound the same With a disco tempo, cliche intro Wack rap tracks for commercial shows Mindless music for the masses
you was kickin? to me On the way out to L.A., [Incomprehensible] and Queens While we was in the car on our way to the shot Well, yo, right now, kick the bass
rock and roll To get on down with something funky with soul Roby on bass (deuce dick and I) on two sticks Spruced it, mass produced it and you proofed
Lookin' out across the crowd, see painted faces all around me, Movin' to that shit I'm sayin', bouncin' to that bass that's poundin' Y'all know my lyrics
You could pass me to baby's zoo One shot'll turn a nigga face into baby food, blah Get it clear, now why they lookin' for Saddam Weapons of mass destruction
s on the chart number one Spearhead sound for the people everyone Thunder comes from the bass and the drum Rain or shine never stop anyone I like my bass
back flat, we had a focus group Of lab rats clappin', at last you got dap Automaton bells rock well from death valley Shit, we all mingle in ditch, mass
Right... Check me out y'all, Nasty Nas in your area About to cause mass hysteria Before a blunt, I take out my fronts Then I start to front, matter
mass starvation And pain in their eyes Final solution Systematic extermination Of a made to believe inferior population Scenes of anguish and terror bassing
on the set mass enjoyment This is to insure definite employment When I hit town, yo you'll know Crowds will roar and you'll hear the bass go Yeah, let the bass