[Chorus: Arsonists] Whether eyes closed or blind fold (HANDS TIED) Who's man enough to brawl and roll (LET'S RIDE) That's how it's done, you can run (RUN) run (CAN'T HIDE) We keep our pyros tight, ain't that right? (THAT'S RIGHT)
[Verse One: Jise One] I seek the meek that shall inherit the surrogate means of life Degenerate intermedial, slice words, sell it for half trife Price sell out yourself that ain't nice (get outta here) Shiest heads, get on your knees! Roll over like you were dice Splice my words, saddle my conscience It's rich the hell with peasants Tenants of apprehensive board games and beast incentives Relative to the back of my hand Stripping my face mash with meat bleeding to death in war stance We playin hangman! (Hotdamn!) We soldiers to phantoms spittin these street anthems Quiet niggas to tantrums We baggy denim to fashion, live band niggas to Samsung Live ass niggas who ring but then run Somebody's son that die young callin himself "dunn"
(Chorus 2x)
[Verse Two: Q-Unique] Illimination of your whole generation next Cover your earth span in a deep breath and took three easy steps One son in awe questionin what his man saw He explained; "Q-Unique, but it was like morphed into gigantor" Crowds gatherin like enquirin minds to panelist Pen scribblin with more thoughts than psycho analysts Under hand suspects check for a clear coast I've influenced an independent movement like Pedro Albizu Campos Except to connect and lift to the next sector Take the light, you shine and spit it back like a bike reflector Move with the word, observe the hidden type phenomenom Plaque playas of the dark age with they designer armor on
[Verse Three: Swel Boogie] Wondering murder it was, left no fingers- and footprints An intelligent mind, clever, how ever this crook thinks but crook is a bad word, I'm raising knives and illin Doing my people favors and savin lives by killin Consider me hero, my body resume is jam pack Startin a war, you either stand up or stand back This man's wack, out of his crane, just do what he says to do Don't want to see him hurtin or killin the rest of you I'm a psychopath, sickest of the psychopaths Tickin bomb, ready to blast, dirty man cleanin the trash but don't get it twisted, I'm only after a certain desease 'cause what I'm talkin about y'all, is hurtin MCs