[Intro: Supernatural]
Ha. Ha. Beats for your mind. Beats for your life, beats all the time. Ha. Beats for your mind. Beats for your life, beats all the time. See, my life is like beats, sharper than cleats. One time. I’m about to bring the heat. Huh. And it goes a little something like this
[Verse 1: Supernatural]
Now I’m sheer delighted right here tonight
Yo, I just can’t fight it. I’ma bless this mic
See Supernatural. I got the gold windpipe
I get the party open, I’m freaky like a dyke
On the mic. “One time,” I’m saying, sight
When I was a baby, yo, I used to ride a trike
As a tyke, loved to rock lyrics off the dome
I was so dope, I credit off steel microphones
A little black alien, Nat’s far from home
Now get in the cockpit ‘cause I’m about to zone
Let me rock it nonstop straight off the telly
Yo, I’ll grab the microphone, baby, and, yo, I’m ready
I’ll run on the track like Mario Andretti
And bust piñatas as they throw confetti
A ticket day parade as I’m coming through
Yeah, I grab the mic one time and I subdue
Nonstop when the lyrics I start to drop
Say my flavors rotate like tapes from doo wop
Like Cyclops, yo, I see through i3
The lyrics come through me telepathically
3-D emcees. I step. I got to rep
I’ll leave the party wet like a Cuban with a TEC
Yeah, in the diamond store with metaphors
Everything that I say from my vocal cords is raw
Yeah, I exercise my lungs
Where would I be without hip hop drums?
I’ll rock dope from Africa to the slums
Got the type of rhymes that could educate bums
In the train, brother, I say no names
When I get busy, yo, yes, I’ll blow frames
Do the masterpiece, pray towards the east
Do backflips, intelligent life beats
Do you suppose when I’m freaking my flows?
Put my hands on your neck to edge your power like I’m Rogue
Inhale, exhale one time. Had to catch my breath
Slipped and then I tripped and still made the flavor def
“Ding-ding!” Call a tech. Somebody go get the ref
‘Cause when I grab the microphone, you know it’s getting blessed
Yeah. I’m like a sensei. I’ll do it all day
When it comes to lyrics, yo, it’s like digital display
Come on, get with it, watch me bounce it
I could pounce, kid, like a big cat on the Serengeti
I’m ready, here to jump it, freak the funk
I’ll walk in a robe like a Shaolin monk
Supernatural. Now you let me out to trump
When you grab the microphone, yo, you’ll leave ‘em all stumped
Now back to I, yo, the flavor that be fly
I could close it. It gets dark. I feel I can fly
Like R. Kelly, doing girls on their belly
One time. Brother like peanut butter and jelly
With milk. Yo, brother, I’ll walk on stilts
And keep it tall. Brother, bounce it off the wall
Like handballs. Sound style’s like the final cause
Love to go shopping in a fly shopping mall
Jiggy, got a stomach that’s crazy big
The way that I can live it truly I’m teaching my kid
The freestyle and the techniques so he will be sharp
One time. Blowing it like strings on the heart
Tear it apart. One time with the thesis
Telekinesis for the dead and the deceased kids
Nonstop, all the rhymes like these
One love from Supernat to all underground emcees
[Interlude 1: I.G. Off]
Yo, what the dealie? Big Supernat up in the house. Reflection Eternal in the house. I.G. Off and Hazadous up in the house. What up? What up, world? Unsigned and hungry emcees. What up, world?
[Verse 2: I.G. Off]
Yo, it’s me, the phonetician. With my doctrine
I’ll outfox ‘em, outbox ‘em, outrock ‘em, I’ll top ‘em
Off the D-O-M-E, I’ll blow the S-P-O-T
I’ll make it H-O-T for any corny emcee
You cornballs all fall. It’s freefall—who want to brawl?
Bring it all, bring it on. I’m leaving corny emcees encumbered
One against a hundred and they’re still outnumbered
I’m the illest—you feel this. When they rhyme, you don’t feel ya
When I flow, you reconsider. I’m considered an enigma
You get froze and shivers in your timbers from what we deliver
I’ll hit you with fatal blow to your arteries
Break your fucking mass up just like a philly
Split your left leg up ‘til I get up to your knee
And then I’ll watch your face while your ass scream in agony
You don’t want no parts of me. The name is I.G
Period. When I deliver it, it’s strictly inconsiderate
And if you don’t like it, you could just take it that way
It’s the Bronx and the n***a from Far Rockaway
So, yo, Reflection Eternal, what you got to say?
Next up on the mic, let your vocal style spray
[Verse 3: Talib Kweli (of Reflection Eternal)]
I’ll let my shit spray like a mist
Doesn’t matter. I’ll come through like you get a kiss
On the cheek. Doesn’t matter. Yo, I speak the shit
That make the other n***as’ shit seem obsolete. These n***as
Is weak. Yo, they’ll get beat over the head with my beeper
Yo, they get run like a sneaker by a n***a
Who got no cash. It doesn’t matter. I’m all up on that ass
Coming through, your ass get head quick, fast
Like you needed a break. Doesn’t matter. I’ll come through
Your ass get eaten like a steak. How much more this
Can I take? Yo, this beat is a winner. Got DJ Spinna
Masta like a Jig. You was all in
The mud like a pig, but I don’t fuck with swine
Coming through, my mind is my business
That’s why I rewind if I said, “Do this shit over”
Yo, come through. I’m a commander like Cobra
Yo, doesn’t matter ‘cause I’m crazy like Eddie
Yo, but, keep that on the Down Low, forget it
Like it was spaghetti. You was a fugazi
Doesn’t matter. These n***as is "H.O.U.S.E."ing like Doug Lazy
Or they’re stomping like KYs. These guys
Yo, come through, they get swatted like flies
Yo, when I need some strength, I drink a Sea Moss
Or a Peanut Punch. N***as, I get... yo, I eat ‘em for lunch
Yo, I had to take a break off my job
Working at Nkiru Books is kind of hard
But, yo, I’ll take an emcee and jab like a lighting rod
Strike you. Doesn’t matter. I never liked you
Anyway in the first place. You was life from the worst race
And the worst place. And, in the first place
I’d have to state again, “Yo, you was not my friend”
So while you try play light, my enemy, comprehend
What I’m about to do to you: run through you. You
Need to transfer from the two to the three to get a five
Your style’s not alive—that’s why we call it dead
Yo, these rhymes is crazy off the top of the head
Or the dome. You split it in half and do me
If I said your name in my rhyme, fuck it. Sue me
I don’t really care and it doesn’t really matter
Come on, Hazadous. Just make the track fatter
[Interlude 2: Hazadous]
One, two. The H-A-Z in the place to be. Nah’m saying? Jigmasta thing, aight? Big up Uptown. All-the-way live. Fortified (No doubt). Uh. Yo, check it out. Cats be fronting a whole lot, so we’re gonna do it like this. Yo
[Verse 4: Hazadous]
Fuck a gun. I’ll load up my mind and blow crews out the frame
What’s your aim? You like Pinky and I’m The Brain
I’m a man that knows a million different methods to bring emcees pain
Stepping to the high? Now that sounds insane
The concrete jungle made me Tarzan, so I guess you Jane
My thoughts are long-range like the heat from the Sun
What I speak is heard worldwide and celebrated in every slum
East Coast to West Coast, it don’t matter where you from
We all the same—we love hip hop and we surrounded by cracks and guns
Travel a million miles but you still can’t run
I think it’s the city lights that make me so numb
Drop it on emcees and make ‘em hit the ground like they weigh a ton
Plus I got this on lock like I’m selling them long jumbs
And, on top of all of that, I’m tighter than Primo drums
Break you down like subtractions, split wigs to small fractions
‘Til the day I can grab clouds out the sky, I’ma keep stacking
When I can’t get hip hop, I’ll bug out like Fatal Attraction
Since we don’t film movies, you can stop all the acting
And we don’t need Puffy dancing in our videos to go platinum
Like that, son. You understand? We keep it clapping
Keep it coming. Yo, um, black in brethren
A lot of...
[Outro: All]
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Like that, y’all. That’s that street. That’s that street hip hop right there. We’re just having fun. Eddie Ill, D.L. Shh...