[Verse 1] Weather Army, Navy, Air Force, or Marines Your whole armed forces couldn't stop this one man team You can't detect the effect of what my words'll do to you The effect of my tech's - it's similar to thermonuclear...war This style is type militant raw Holdin' the audience prisoner in ways ya never saw I run through your whole outfit without flaw The outlaw type'a kid you're proud to shout for It's funny how good guy now becomes the villain Money has become God and all squads are illin' I'm a 102-years-old at the tricentennial Chillin', if not, an intricate plot will now be my feelin' Rough, rugged, raw, still values I'm instillin' ?And the chillin'?, hopin' to lower the rate of killin' Years from my demise, you'll see that my plan is still in Implementation, it'll come in the form of activists Sent to fix nations, for now listen to ?Akengers? Represent your station, spot, domain, or location But understand we from the same rotation Good versus Evil, both nations at war This style is type militant raw
[skratching of various samples]
[Verse 2] This is the illest war recorded, from Glory to Soldier Story Organizing a regime to leave your team gory They can't hack it, so I'm strappin on my Full Metal Jacket So is to bomb the population in the upper tax bracket So we can uplift these inner-city sanctions And once my message cranks in..., bring the tanks in Then I'm bombin from an aircraft carrier Final Fantasy Tactics back to space harrier In other words, new schools are old, check my smart bomber Check my triple-W-dot-Akrobatik-dot-com Check my plan of attack for world dominance It ain't no over the top hate shit, just common sense I'm intense beyond your definition Blow a million heads up with out no ammunition Or no pistol, just this New England Patriot missile To explode your frame, leavin no remains except your gristle I get respect, 21 gun salute Got many rhyme philosophies but none pollute...the brain I spiritually massage you to the core My style is type militant raw