(R-SON)
Innovate the flow, you can't mimic it
Sound never dies, Ecko Unlimited
Pro Bowl rhyme, y'all high school scrimmaging
Half futuristic, half primitive

Progressive - still rooted
In the history that makes the source of all trueness
I don't give a damn how much you move units
I'm dragging y'all back to school like truants

Back in action, tagged backpack then
Don't be surprised when I rhyme in Latin
Ipso facto, sharper than Exacto
Knives, cats need to have nine lives

Cuz I'm taking them five at a time
When you're reborn don't even try to rhyme
Blessed with one of the finest of minds
No limit to the heights that I'm going to climb

Mute the voice you need a better plan
R-SON, set it like no other? You bet he can
Call your bookie, taking rookies and veterans
Ursa Major, eating up Teddy Grahams
Chorus
I see you bout to lose your mind
Get free there ain't no stopping the shine
Got it bad, got it bad
Got it bad, got it bad and that ain't no crime

(Dolio the Sleuth)
Always down for the cause so I'll never starve
Hella bars, break it off better than the regular
Get y'all with a full plate you couldn't finish off
Even with them hinged-off boa constrictor jaws

Thick chick with a frame need bigger draws
Make you spit a little game, try to hit it off
Take the bull by the horns, get a minotaur
Make her shake off of that lame and get with a boss

Lawd - tell me shorty, are you bout this?
We can see what kind of mischief we get found in
They get strumming and the beat just get to pounding
Sounding like we ‘bout to tumble down a mountain

Clowning, feeling I’ve been on my grind
Another round for my people, get it one mo’ time
We get down making music and it’s oh so live
Play it loud so you hear it ‘bout to blow yo’ mind
Chorus
I see you bout to lose your mind
Get free there ain't no stopping the shine
Got it bad, got it bad
Got it bad, got it bad and that ain't no crime

Bridge
Ain’t no stoppin’ the shine, make you lose your mind
Ain’t no stoppin’ the shine, make you lose your mind
Make you lose your mind

Chorus
I see you bout to lose your mind
Get free there ain't no stopping the shine
Got it bad, got it bad
Got it bad, got it bad and that ain't no crime

Breakdown:
Got It Bad Got It Bad (and that ain't no crime)

(R-SON)
Blessed with a set of rhyming skills
Taken there like Bryan Mills
I'm that kind of ill
You're in a pickle with the brine and dills
Got lines like a pack of porcupines has quills
You must be high on pills of all types of doses
Hit like the fist of the Flying Lotus
Right now I'm putting all of y'all on notice