The 3 Wise Men

[Verse 1: Ill Bill]

I never liked Imus, always thought he was a dickhead

The media want to try to censor my lyrics instead

I'd be a fucking idiot if my lyrics didn't reflect

The pain caused by a world by a business of death

Blowjob from your mother and wife at the same time

Sit back, recline with my cocaine rhymes

Heroin beats, let the rhythm hit him, terrible heat

Relentlessly, effortlessly hit them

Street villainess, we the chosen of man now get in the van

I get it cookin' like meth in a pan

Tie your arm up with a belt and inject in a scab

Round trip to the drug spot set in a cab

Rolling Stone concert flicks, thousand dollar chips

Model chicks with Katana tits and hypnotic hips

Get sprayed at your table at the Babylon club

Left dazed, mangled, disabled, and splattered in blood

[Verse 2: O.C.]

Me and Bill are both martyrs

Flows so similar to Harvard books inside libraries

One step beyond smarter

Cajun hot, we throw it up like a half-court lob

Into the quarter when the shot clock does 'em

So sick, fuck around, become a victim

Don't blame me, young cats put themselves in this position

You're facing a dilemma

There's no telling when you might end up face off with a nutcase and a sinner

Embrace this and parish, face that shows terror

No punches or edits, I rival up the devil

I walk past everything falls dead

Verbally spreading my medula

Hoe store speech released unchained mechanics

In the form of bar with the music

Join us and permantly sleep cause your appointment

Two guns, me, O.C and bill, we're double-jointed

[Verse 3: Jeru The Damaja]

the rhyme alchemist, hip hop scientist

Mix bonds in a lab like an Al Quada terrorist

My shit narcotic from start to finish

I knock out so many teeth I get kick backs from dentists

I feed MC's to the vultures, man

While their chicks' asses up in the air like Chin Chan

Wanna test this? Have a good medical plan

Cause I bash you in the dome like Captain Caveman

And this dope's a billion bucks a gram

I wipe the blood off my mic and fuck a female fan

You never thought you'd see me, Bill, and O on a track

So dope the DEA thought it was crack

When it comes to rockin a mic I do works

So many exotic feats they call me Captain Kurk

Shit-faced like the jerk

My shit's a street sweeper, your shit just squirt