[Verse 1: Consequence]
You got the vocab
Yes I do...
It's the Cons To The Quence
From the 192
And I first made the news
Catching wreck
Off of Wordplay
Then had a rebirth like
It was Rihanna's birthday
People on this Earth say
I may need Speech therapy
Cuz it's been a minute
Since they all
Got to hear from me
But I live in infamy
For buying out Tiffany's
And making
Nouns and adjectives
Become
Bags on Madison
You can hear the arrogance
In my annunciation
Cuz they converse
About Cons verse
In they conversation
And that's a confirmation
That there'll be confiscation
If not, a confrontation
And legal complications
Because this explanation
Don't have no expiration
Once it detonates
All you'll see is exclamation
Points
Every point
Makes them appoint
Anoint and rejoice
When I Rock this
Funky Joint
(Rock That Shit Homie)
So this is for the thugs
And bloods and the prostitutes (Yeah)
Man I got the plug
Like I'm Posdnuos
(Yeah)
Man I got the plug
Like I'm Trugoy
(Yeah)
So shout out to
The dreds and rude boys
My new toy
In the parking lot
Is the meanest
So you can use Ebonics
Or proper English
To distinguish
The dons and the murder pros
And the ones who've been trill
Longer than Virgil's clothes
But yet my adversaries feel
Their imaginary skills
May could match up
With the Real
But for castles on a hill
Or a mansion and mill
Just like March Madness
When the brackets get revealed
The odds makers
Say we too strong
So the top seed
Is you Con (UConn)
And since I'm armed
With vocabulary skills
I'm guaranteed to leave you leaking
When Vocabulary Spills
YES!
[Verse 2: Dove]
Yo, I speak divine of God theories, no need to be high
Always exhale the facts, I don’t inhale lie
Play the greater man’s game to bounce off my loss
I'mma earn the acres, the house and the horse
Of course it’s much greater than your Benz or your Lex
The engine to my comprehension is the apex
Too complex, effects be live like Das
Making moves down South to avoid the bull
I never flaunt the coin cause dime-getters be gazing
Call me Luther Van, they say my style so amazing
Fazing those who’re supposed to have the last laugh
Even when I’m gone I’m reappearing in the aft'
I have to send respects to real money makers
Do not connect me to your champagne ho
Ayo, taste the quarter pound from here to New York
Don’t swine, don’t eat no pork
Who am I? The D to the

Hey, and I’m the P to the

[Verse 3: Posdnous]
Yep, I’m the most, coast Eastern flav
Drop more knowledge than litter on your New York pave'
It’s me Wonder Why in the place to be
Certified as superior MC
While others explore to make it hardcore I make it hard for
Wack MC’s to even step inside the door of rap
Rhyming sometimes
And when we get to racing on the mic we line up to see
The lyrical killing, stained egos on the ceiling
My rhymes escalates like black death rates
Over musical plates, being played as the rule
Kids thinking stepping to the crew, you’re labeled fools
Who claims to drop jewels, but for now you do the catching
I don’t give a shit about what crew you run or what section of Earth
You reside, you’re not even a man, n***a
Yo, you not even a man, n***a
But I’m a man cause my man say so for the light
You try keeping it real, you should try keeping it right
That’s understanding microphone mathematics
Leads to currency and temporary world status
And when one shows he posed threat to this one
This one will make that one into none
Simple equation, zero, you shouldn’t play hero
If you can’t stand strong like the Island I’m from
And I’m the P to the