It's Going Down

Sit back, close your eyes

Peep back, got you open wide

I'll let you get a taste of me

It's going down in mystery

Sit back, close your eyes

Peep back, got you open wide

I'll let you get a taste of me

It's going down in mystery

Well it's the microphone ripper, party-rockin Gift of Gab

I hit the scene, lift you on my beam

And send you through my high plains

Mind-train shiftin through your migraines

Spit with that I hit with patterns get you twisted sideways

And I'm the head honcho, sport golden tonsils

Inventin new styles all the time like pronto!

Four by four, runnin over suckers like a Bronco

Haters say the lyrics ain't Gonzo but they wrong though

We walking up and locking up the game and sparking up the flame

You're not gone' be the same when our flow reach your brain

It's 'bout to bust

Not your crush, show up at our show in a tacky dress

Sparking us, talking 'bout your prowess but we're not impressed

Checkmate, populous crush, monstrous plush

Rhymes that just thrust onto your buck buck

Just rush

Just rushin' like the Nile River, power we deliver

See it's (going down in mystery)

You know, I know, you know, I know

(It's going down in mystery)

(Gift of Gab won't you learn 'em and assure 'em)

(That the fire that you spit'll burn 'em)

Burning up the track and turning up the action

(Murder one attack him)

Serving what you're rapping

Urban gutter anthems

(Certain of the fact)

Curtains for the wack

Searching for the knack

(You're pervin' off the fatness)

Fury of the rather early mornings after

(Worldly like disasters)

Purely just the baddest, the chief clamp down on 'em

(Like a vice on a melon squeezing tight on your temples)

Feel the bass (as the wind blows)

In your face (and your mental) hear the taste

Instrumentals even break down on you like this

(We surpass your previous standards) drastically

(Mastering bass), setting nights so bright

(Beneath the skylight)

And days (and weeks) and months (go by)

And years (and decades) and we still so fly

(While the others are just fly by night)

And not tight (we keep writing)

Like scribes (but we tight) and so wise (c'mon)

The rhyme historian exploring everything that we got

And even more so we exploring everything that they not

These are the glory days for lyricisits, forever we plot

Wait wait wait wait hold on a second bring it back (we plot [x4], c'mon)

The rhyme historian exploring everything that we got

And even more so we exploring everything that they not

These are the glory days of lyricisits, forever we plot

(It's going down in mystery)