• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• 7 Mc's Part 2 - K-otix
• World Renown - K-otix
• The Word - K-otix
• Questions - K-otix
• Mind Over Matter - K-otix
• George Bush Doesn't Care About Black People - K-otix
• Front Row - K-otix
• Frequencies - K-otix
• Do You Wanna Be An Mc - K-otix

Little inner city Willie much like myself
Was aspiring to touch the higher reaches of wealth
Self propelled by the propaganda of the MC's
Glamour ride through his eyes vividly on TV
Mesmerized by the likes of these self proclaimed G's
Fantasized himself to be the fat rat stacking cheese
Armani khaki jeans where they used to be Lee's
no ties with Master Lock but now speaking of keys
Being seized overseas in big barrels and crates
but negated to relate he never went out of state
Now consume the toxic logic plus the toxic fumes
Out of tune and now assumed to be Nom De Plume
Better known as Big Willie
Now Don't That Sound Silly
Favorite catch phrase Keep It Real But not really
Still he making ends without an n
Pushing up a jeep a Lex coupe Beemer and a Benz
Pretends to be the baller down south slanging mo mo's
back east he lies about ties with Mafioso
In Philly-Illinois he rolled a Caddy Sedan
and in Oaktown he was the Don Juan of San Fran and beyond
With his companion on the hip and a Friday night ride down the strip
It's a Trip
Look inside the ride MC number 9 by his side sippin' Cristal wine
Tried her best to look fine Wasn't really worth the time
Just an imitation of Will's fraud state of mind
Caught me by surprise. But then I read between the lines
Heard through the grapevine #5 wrote your rhymes
Check the signs See the decline of income
Going out for the crumb Your style's still dumb
#10 was the label mate of # 8&9
Whining like a beaatch and bottom line couldn't rhyme
Shining in the lime light but couldn't rhyme tight
No originality Strictly sound bites
Downright about the worst that I heard verse to verse
Every word was a curse to the ear
Preferred not to hearing his song
But no choice but to listen on
His LP wasn't even worth pissing on
Dancin' a jig and thinking he was jiggy
Everybody's picking him to be the next
But he was over shadowed by the face in the camera
#11 his producer slash manager
Slash amateur slash rapper slash actor slash tapper
the hit song jacker New nod factor
turned playboy when he dropped the Craig Macker
Making rap wacker Ain't mad at ya
But weekly you tempt me to pimp me the new jiggy on Mtv
The Magnum Cum Laude of my PhD
I was hating from the jump when you became an MC
Trying to keep it real Without a trace of rap skill
At first it was chill But now it's like over kill
Wanted to build the rep of material objects
R&b; niggas switching from rap to rock sets
Yet once again neither one saw the signs
#10's simple mind combined with simple rhymes
defined the prime reason why we had to make it twice
You need to stop rocking ice Learn to rock a mic
I hope my words come as a shock Get off your own jock
Probably why everybody's taking shots
Now it's all about the Benjamins, but
I'm calling out your feminine strut
Plus it wasn't a surprise that 11 had to capitalize
Off the late great #8's sudden demise
Cut the lies that he tried to keep it honest
Talkin' 'bout flossin'
when he shoulda seen an orthodontist
Making promises that he wasn't fulfillin'
People by the millions Saying they wasn't feeling em
I guess in all the Hype like William started killin' em
Dealing in the same fate as their late friend
Once again

[Micah]
It all began on 2-10, 1975
Keeping it live, only a strong mind survive
A controller of the rhyme since the age of 9
Now I'm two of a kind, soon the best of all time
I design each line with prime intuition
A crime to decline this rhyme expidition
K-O definitely the definition
Moving you out of position, out of comission
[Damien]
I was born 6-18-74
Bringing light to this mic like never before
Specializing in the rhyme and the beats that blend
Been friends with them pen since the age of ten
Many say when I write that I freak the line
Every rhyme that I recite gotta speak my mind
Who sell every time with the beats that hit?
K-O on the flow be the ultimate
From the underground we're the world renown
D and the Mic with the verbs and nouns
ARE makes the beat come down
K to the O universal sound
You rock ice all night (We don't do that shit)
Play the big Will type (We can't do that shit)
Sound wack on the mic (Never do that shit)
Can't do that shit, won't do that shit
[Damien]
K-O taking the flow to new dimentions
Lyrically inclined to find intervention
The next revolution in musical evolution
Lyrcially exact with graphical resolution
The finest of the underground's unlisted
Lyrically intercontinentally ballistic
Universal sound bridging gaps over distance
You tout to even attempt resistance
[Micah]
For instance, the saga has just begun
Keep MC's on the run so beware of the tongue
Where I'm from there's no one that's quite as nice
When we grab the mic MC's go on strike
Closed by psyche dynamite and such
My vocabulary got the Midas touch
The Dream Team step on the set, the threat triple
K-O cripple your soul, keeping it simple
From the underground we're world renown
D and the Mic with the verbs and nouns
ARE makes the beat come down
K to the O universal sound
You rock ice all night (Well you can do that shit)
Beg the crowd to get hype (We don't do that shit)
Sounding wack on the mic (Can't do that shit)
Never do that shit, we don't do that shit
[Micah]
Let it be known, we run more clones than Jim Rhome
Suckers get overthrown like Battledome
Known to unknown your whole zone is blown
Prone to break bones when the microphone is on
God blessed me with the verbal abilities and the rhythm
Six million ways to die, chose lyracism
Reflect like a prism over compact discs
Won't miss any MC who combat this
[Damien]
It's like this, it won't stop until I'm gone
I play the stage with the mic and my game face on
The mic is my chosen weapon, I stay armed
K-O rock every show that we perform
Prepare for the calm before the brainstorm
The shift of my jaws is cause for an alarm
Consider every song a similar to disarm
You all go respond with the call and respond
From the underground we're world renown
D and the Mic with the verbs and nouns
ARE brings the beat around
K to the O universal sound
You rock ice all night (We don't do that shit)
Play the big Wil type (We never do that shit)
Beg the crowd to get hype (We can't do that shit)
Won't do that shit, don't do that shit
Don't do that shit, don't do that shit

[Verse One: Damien]
With this mic in my right hand
I can reshape the face of the world
And shift sands
Child, woman, and man stand on command
Communicating with others across foreign lands
Understand
The Word can bring wisdom to a fool
A destructive weapon
Or constructive tool
The words that I speak
Can give power to the weak
Courage to the meek
Hope to the bleak
The power
To combine with minds of many kinds
Whether written or recited
Or spoken within a rhyme
In time
The way my very life is defined
Crossing over cultural and economical lines
The ability to break barriers
Break bread
Break ground
Break it up
Break it down
Words can contact
And impact with sound
Make contracts with verbs
And attack with nouns
[Chorus]
What's the word
People all around stay bound
By the Word
Spoken in tongues
Or even sung
What's the Word
Communicate from state to state
With the Word
Live by the Word
Die by the Word
[Verse Two: Mic]
Every match is like a Royal Rumble
Every man for himself
With every step I take
I'm gaining more health
Ain't no good MCs left
Cause their minds ain't right
Wanna get a record deal
But can't deal with the MIC
Camouflage couldn't hide you
From these words I serve
Check the pulse
Rappers ain't got the heart or nerve
Realize
Looking at fraud guys through God's eyes
Utilize the mind
As the guiding light through lies
Specialize in the rhyme, dialects, and beats
Enemy crews unite
But can't compete
Nor defeat
Anything like this
My likeness is priceless
The two nicest on mic devices
Is me and D
Weak MCs
Yo, we're training 'em
On the other side of tracks
In cells bangin' 'em
My words stimulate the nerves in your cranium
They want the gold and platinum plaques
We want uranium
I flip the game
To make the players think I'm playing 'em
My people think I'm evil
Cause I rhyme with Damien
K-otix Universal is law
Leave 'em open-jawed
Cause the words I say is raw
[Chorus]
[Verse Three: Damien (Mic)]
Many with the power
Abuse it
Many with the power know not how to use it (Word)
I can make a living
Or bring death
Initiate a change
Every time I take a step
What's left
If there were no word at all
See, societies would crumble
Causing cities to fall
Even though we speak in various tongues and dialects
With the Word
We connect in universal respect
Check Check
Bringing attention to the ignored
Comprehension to whatever wasn't mentioned before
I can illustrate a clear idea with metaphor
A mere syllable will have you feeling for more (Word)
Plus the meanings even change with the trends
Little words with four letters
Often seem to offend
What I say
Can provoke war
Or invoke peace
When I'm speaking through a mic
It's like my power's increased

Last time around we hit you with a big question
We asked do you wanna be an mc
And now with the past of times
There's still a lot of questions that have gone un-answered
There's not enough answers but so many questions
[Verse 1]
Who what when where why
Be an mc if you can't vocalize
When will you visualize with your third eye
Whey are you rappin if you don't qualify
Why do all rap guys try to be fly
Why Lie
Why you writing rhymes when you're high
Who keeps it live from west coast to NY
K to the O T to the I
I to the X notify next of kin
When's the next trend
Who's the next Rakim
Who's the next greatest mc of all time
Who's the next overrated mc to shine
Who told these lady mc's that they were fine
Why make a record when you're way past your prime
How ya stackin dollars when ya barely droppin dimes
How come all these hardcore brothers are straight lying
Who's the next wack cover act to get signed
Stacked on the record rack for a limited time
Why'd they push the price back to $9.99
When the cd's supposed to be top line
[Verse 2]
Where's the mc that's supposed to be tight with the rhyme
Why on radio you say the same damn rhymes
Why do female mc's rhyme half naked
Why use R&B; to have a hit record
Why does evrybody and their mama mc
Why does new hot shit sound wack to me
How am I a hater if I hate your cd
How you more bout it bout it then Master P
[Verse 3]
Why ya askin me
What's up with all these biters
Why do rap superstars hire ghostwriters
Why does everybody seem to kinda sound the same
Why can't these rappers try to stick with one name
Why are so many careers ending soon
How come everybody's tryin to sample showtunes
Why do most artists make albums that don't move me
How come everybody thinks they gotta do a movie
Why do underground rappers always get neglected
How come everybody's comin with their last record
How come wack rappers never know when to chill
How come you don't make a name 'til you get killed
[Verse 4]
How ya call yourself God when you talk senseless
How are you a player when your album's on the benches
Why drop a record with a song full of disses
But when it comes to callin names ya actin like bitches
How ya goin platinum when ya hits are all misses
Aand every song sounding like a wish list from Christmas
Why mc's more concerned about getting checks
Why mc's wonder why they get no respect
Why do rap groups break up to go solo
End their careers puttin out weak promos
Why are all the wack rappers in it for the money
Why all the wack rappers think their rhymes' funny
Why do mc's freestyle too long
Why their interludes sound better than their song
[Verse 5]
And how come on every music show that I know
In every video you got a million cameos
When artists gain a following within the underground
Why's the next album got the crossover sound
Why do groups break up to break contracts
Why do wack rappers try to make comebacks
How do wack rappers sell records off the hype
Why does everyone seem to look and sound alike
Why is everyone on everybody else's cuts
Why is everyone on everybody else's nuts
Why are most of ya'll even still in this profession

It's the immaculate conception
Accurate connection
Dangerous selection
Hazardous to your profession
With no trajection, your whole game lacks direction
Prime time
My will outshine your reflection
McGyver-like
Creating bombs with mics
Inviting my pen to write
Is like igniting dynamite
'Cause when the Mic recites
Enemy crews unite for defenses
Leaving MCs as past-tenses
It' senseless for you to even hope for
You think you're doper?
I'll have you on the sofa
Crying out to Oprah
My words stimulate the nerves in your brain tissue
With lyrics that'll leave you spinning like Yoshimitsu
Clear like crystal
Banging like nuclear missiles
You know the issue
When your homie is singing "I miss you"
It's official
With deadly flows leaving rappers John Doe
To make them say
"Yo, I don't rhyme no more"
K-O got you falling down like a roots video
In slo-mo, running things fo' sho'
[CHORUS]
It's all about mind over matter
It's all a matter of time
Before I go for mine
Drop the dotted line
I'd rather be the unsigned hype
Than the type to be the unhype signed
Like a lot of lyricists in our time
I can't relate with
The way we formulated rhymes
Is algebraic
Most of ya'll are still stuck in it
Need to quit
Or become celibate
And not f*** with it
Trying to duplicate the format
Amazed at how we manipulate a four-track
Show you right
K-O keeps the flow tight
For every Clark Kent
I present the kryptonite
Ain't no stopping me
Exercise mic control
Like it's stolen property
Philosophizing thought
Plato and Socrates
A demonstration into how to rock properly
K-O making you nauseous
Better remain cautious
Utilize discretion
Tight flow for K-O is an obsession
My life is all about progress and progression
It's all a matter of time
No question
[CHORUS x2]
K-O rap flow
Like making a gat blow
Verbal .44
Waiting to straighten your afro
Hot lyrics got you thinking
We're drinking tobasco
You wanna be an MC?
Get what you ask for
Yo, these homo Mcs speed is slo-mo
Yank and lick shots
And still be bobo
On the d-low pack the verbal .44
Got the po-po
Running like Flo-Jo
K-O's some naturally talented mo-fos
But since '92 we've been in the shadows
Most of all these hi-pro rappers are so-so
But they ain't never met with the threat of K-O
You need to lay low
I hit MCs like a free throw
We lay down the classic vocals like Peabo
Bumrush the show like troops in Kosovo
K to the O
Your rap virtuosos

[Kanye West:] (George Bush doesn't care about black people)
(She take my money...)
I ain't sayin he's a gold digger
(...when I'm in need)
But he ain't messin with no broke niggaz
(She take my money...)
I ain't sayin he a gold digger
(...when I'm in need)
But he ain't messin with no broke niggaz
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
Hurricane came through, fucked us up round here
Government actin like it's bad luck down here
All I know is that you better bring some trucks round here
Wonder why I got my middle finger up round here
People lives on the line, you declinin to help
Since you takin so much time we survivin ourself
Just me and my pets and my kids and my spouse
Trapped in my own house lookin for a way out
Five days in this muthafuckin attic
Can't use the cell phone, I keep gettin static
Dyin cause they lyin instead of tellin us the truth
Other day the helicopters got my neighbors off the roof?
Screwed cause they said they comin back for us too
That was three days ago, I don't see no rescue
See, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do
Since God made the path, then I'm tryin to walk through
Well, swam to the store tryin to look for food
Corner store's kinda flooded so I broke my way through
I got what I could but before I got through
The news said police shot a black man tryin to loot?
(I gotta leave)
Don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like
(She take my money...)
I ain't sayin he a gold digger
(...when I'm in need)
But he ain't lookin no broke niggaz
(She take my money...)
I ain't sayin he a gold digger
(...when I'm in need)
But he ain't checkin for no broke niggaz
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
George Bush don't like black people
Five damn days, five long days
And at the end of the fifth you walkin in like, "Hey!"
Chillin on his vacation sittin patiently
Them black folks gotta hope, gotta wait and see
If FEMA really comes through in an emergency
But nobody seems to have a sense of urgency
Now the mayor's been reduced to cryin
I guess Bush said niggaz been used to dyin
He said, "I know it looks bad, just have to wait"
Forgettin folks who too broke to evacuate
Niggaz starvin and they dyin of thirst
I bet he had to go and check on them refineries first
Makin a killin off the price of gas
He woulda been up in Connecticut twice as fast
After all that we been through, nothing's changed
You can call Red Cross but the fact remains
that
(She take my money...)
George Bush ain't a gold digger
(...when I'm in need)
But he ain't fuckin with no broke niggaz
(She take my money...)
George Bush ain't a gold digger
(...when I'm in need)
But he ain't fuckin with no broke niggaz
(I gotta leave)
Come down Bush, come on, come down
(I gotta leave)
Come down Bush, come on, come down
(I gotta leave)
Come down Bush, come on, come down
(I gotta leave)
Come down Bush, come on, come down
(She take my money...)
George Bush ain't a gold digger
(...when I'm in need)
George Bush don't like black people
(She take my money...)
George Bush don't like black people
(...when I'm in need)
George Bush don't like black people
(I gotta leave)
Come down Bush, come on, come down
(I gotta leave)
Come down Bush, come on, come down
(I gotta leave)
Come down Bush, come on, come down
(I gotta leave)

This is dedicated
To the knucklehead
Acting like he ain't feelin' it
Concealing it
Chin up and ice grillin' it
You get a buzz from the crowd
And they be killin' it
They might be loving the show
But ain't revealing it
We give the people what they want
And make them jump
But fools in the front are too cool to get crunk
Not a hand in the air
Gotta stand and stare
And never correspond with the call and respond
Beyond that-
They're just trying to gleam
Like we said in the club
Just to see or be seen
If you're up in the scene
And the scene is thick
And you can't cooperate
Then it's best to flip
With ya wack ass
Acting like a jack ass
You're taking up space looking up in my face
And you ain't got the good grace to scream out loud
Take ya sorry ass
Straight to the back of the crowd
'Cause most bros that I know
Be up in the show
Up in the front row
Too hard to say "Hoooo!"
Screw face on
Like we're 'bout to go to blows
Hat pulled low
Too cool to go "Hooooo!"
[CHORUS]
There's always one in the front
Acting like he don't know
Looking at me like a ho
But don' wanna say "Ho"
Crowd blaze it up
Wanna be thugs don't wanna raise it up
Got ya-
Lips tight
Screw face the whole night
But at the end of the show
They be like "That's tight!"
Yeah right
You're looking at me like you wanna fight
See I'm the type that'll throw down the mic
'Cause I'm
Quite nice with adjectives and the pronouns
But some clowns stare me down
Like a showdown
And when the love goes around
You gets no pound
You wouldn't put your hands up
So keep your hands down
Your whole damn squad is fraud
Beaugard to the front to look hard
It's kinda odd
Wanna be a superstar
But you're far from that
I bet the people in the front
Want you playing the back
'Cause most bros that I know
Are too hard to "Ho" at the show anymore
I don't know
Guess they'd rather elbow
Instead of playing the low
Looking at me like a ho
But don't wanna say "Hooooo!"
[CHORUS]
All out in the cut
Lookin' like "Fool what?"
Don't come for the shows
They just come for the hoes
Up in the front row
Tryna profile and pose
Tempers flare if you dare
To step on their toes
Just can't enjoy themselves
Like they're supposed
Can't get them open
'Cause they keep their minds closed
Chose to remain frame froze
Every week wear the same clothes
Nevertheless, thinking that we're impressed
By the style of the dress
Coming through in his best
Goose down bubble vest
Strapped tight to his chest
Like he's straight bulletproof
Before you get a hand up
You gotta pull a tooth
So tell me what's the use
If you pay twenty bones
To see me rock the microphone
And you can't get loose
Won't get it on
Sucka ass
Shoulda just kept ya ass home
'Cause most bros that I know
Be up in the show
Up in the front row
Too hard to say "Hooo!"
Screw face on
Like we're 'bout to go to blows
Hat pulled low
Too cool to say "Hoooooo!"

This is re-evolution
Regeneration
Re-presentation
What's your destination?
Maybe star status amongst the constellations
No conversation without contemplation
Premier lyricist in deep concentration
Beware
Or you'll suffer severe complications
Straightening learning curves with re-education
First lesson-
Never question my dedication
Most of ya'll are in it
For commercial presentation
No rockin' without the proper documentation
Fuckin' with it before you're committed
Is fornication
I rock hard
With a rock-hard fortification
Nowadays
MCs are either pimps, players
Killers or murderers
We drop jewels like
Two clumsy-ass burglars
Straight tripping on MCs
More than Vincent
Blow 'em out like weak amps
Made by Jensen
Don't even listen
We're too deaf to hear
Last year went up MCs like pap smears
Stand clear
Front on this - you get the rear
Shed tears
What you feel now is fear
Recording engineers...
Yo, my mic's made of
Steel stainless to leave you nameless
Ice grill you faceless
Death by the rhyme is painless
School MCs and they're still gameless
Move through the optical source
Guided with God force
And they're still lost
Strength like two tons
Spit like two guns
Ya crew's too done
Two to none
For freshness
Preferred K-otix ten to one
Rhyme blaze MCs
Equivalent of the sun
I make your technology look like pitty pat
Silly that, ya still coming with witty raps
Old schoolin' fools like Skoob & Scrap
Come with foolish raps
Record sales turn into
A toilet full of crap
K-O-T-I next degeneration
Shook like you're looking through
Books of revelation
In every rhyme I'm speaking
I'm seeking this vindication
For us to stop evolving
There's never an indication
Never gracing tracks
With wack representation
Outpacing every other in this generation
Manipulating metaphors to form alliterations
Whoever tests
Is facing a critical situation
Space that you're wasting
Facing obliteration
K-O station identification
Hesitance leads to definite devastation

[CHORUS x4]
Do you wanna be an MC
Ask yourself, ask yourself, ask yourself
[Verse 1]
Ask yourself this question
Do you want to be
One among the few and chosen
The title of MC
Is harder to achieve than many wanna believe
Been deceived in perceiving this MC-ing with ease
Please, paying dues without collecting fees
Until your time to shine
You probably rhymin for free
In places otherwise you wouldn't go
Unconcerned faces recognize you as the average Joe
With no release date
You get the least consideration
For crowd participation
The people, they've been waiting
For the hottest sensation
With a rep and credentials
Not someone abusing overused instrumentals
Sounding like you never rocked a mic
A single day in your life
Realizing that you're really not quite as tight
As your boys made you think you are
Wanna be MC superstar
But you're far from the truth
The proof is in the lack of applause
And a pause
Followed by immediate discharge
The public at large
Is calling you a fraud
This is what you gotta take to heart
[CHORUS x4]
Do you wanna be an MC
Ask yourself, ask yourself, ask yourself
Believe me
The rhyming part is easy
But in this game
It gets greasy
You're looking for the bread
But dough here is measly
MCs be seeing their CDs as frisbees
Need be finding something better with their lives
(Why)
Too many rappers sound alike on the mic
Mic here to shed light
D be my witness
Ain't no money in this
If you ain't handling business
Even if you sign the dotted line
You may find
That the rhyme that you say is mine
cause u never mind the fine print
'Cause the heaven sent gift you got
You gave away
To a label for a short term thrill
Got gypped on your own skill
Just to sign a deal
Sort of ill
Your bonus looking more like a bill
Yet and still
Goes another brother falling off the cliff
Once an MC
Now the driver of a forklift
It ain't where you're from
Or where you're at
It's about who you know
And who did your track
Take a step back
And look at what you made
Now who's the last one to get paid?
[CHORUS x4]
Do you wanna be an MC