[Intro]
You better recognize, what
Snatch your fuckin' head from your neck, kid
Word up, it's the cold blooded sin
Strictly murder, Legion of Doom '94
Word 'em up, this is how we do that shit
Techs to your record son, Shit
Fuck that shit
Word 'em up that how we're always been

[Verse 1: 50 Grand]
Yo check it, I feel the vibe like Shanet
Collaborate on n***as brains and bend yo ass like a Sensei
My death sentence is danger
I black out like Joe Ripken, n***as hittin' the floor like the chamber
The sick authorist transmits for no repent
And activate the plan the Pentagon intelligence
So listen close like musical chairs
The L.O.D. is deep then the n***as Under The Stairs
I crack million dollar script like an architect
And execute like the chair when I inflict death
I got the creepiest slang in this galaxy
And wreck the industry so mysteriously
Coming with the funk from beneath I creep straight for jugglers
And twist rap caps for all you motherfuckers
Walk the bloody streets with 19 shots in the lueger
N***as be scared to face 50 Grand like Medusa
The shit I produce is like gin and juice when it blend
Scenes from Toni Braxton you'll Never Breathe Again
I rhyme without ability to reason, n***as is guilty of treason
Who's to blame but the Legion to the Doom
[Hook: Keith Murray]
With punk n***as we got beef so
(L.O.D. about to take it to the streets)
On the mic we definitely got beats so
(L.O.D. about to take it to the streets)

[Verse 2: Ron Jay]
Roy Jay go the wickedest mystic majestic flow
From a homicidal clique, Yo E make that psychopathic mix
I hits for the hecks or the shit that causes conflict in the script
Beeotch my style set on fire to touch Venus
My soul seeks the universe while I'm sleepin'
I'm creepin' makin' myself develop with the chronic
Electronic Million Dollar Man the mic bionic
So you can feel it in your nerves when I blast off into the suburbs
Conduct lightning with electrifying words
I freak to them suicidal tracks break backs
N***as scarred fakin' fuckin' heart attacks
Oooh when I'm comin' through the crowd
N***as want static yo I got the gun pazoow, wizoow, word up

[50 Grand]
I got the slaughter for your brains drive you insane
Fuck that shit

[News Interlude]
[Verse 3: Keith Murray]
The moderation incubation of my creation
Is instantaneously with my vocabulation accumulation
Trust me as I bust thee, lyrical homicidal shit from Keith Murray
If I had 24 hours to live and one wish
I wouldn't wish for no damn lifesavers
I'd start going wild like Larry Davis
The funk speech vigilante from the L.O.D
Gets funky freakly and freaky fluently
And deep as Greek mythology on level Z
There's six million ways to die
And eight million stories in the naked city and all them shits are lies
So I keep my wittiest ironist hideous
Psychosis bloodiest flow Thucydides
Comin' from out this orbit deep space 9's wiggle my shit
Meltin' crew down like synthetic acid
Come half steppin' fession' through a section
And get the midsection of your brain drain with mad man expression
No questions and no second guessin'

[Outro]
Yo, 40 ounce dreams and blunts for wishes
Yeah, that's what we got for you n***as
Yeah let's get on it, get off it
L.O.D. we won't forfeit
Ayo, check it out, L.O.D. is the n***as man
Ayo, put your money where your mouth is at, n***a, yeah
I have you rockin' Daisy dukes and Reebok pumps, n***a
Yeah, yeah
L.O.D. style for 94, yeah
And it's on