[Intro: N.O.R.E., Stanley Anderson & Billy Bob Thornton]
What is this thing? We didn't see this thing coming?
Is this going to hit us?
We're efforting that as we speak, sir
What kind of damage?
Damage? Total, sir
It's what we call a global killer– the end of mankind
Doesn't matter where it hits, nothing would survive, not even bacteria
Super engineer, 'Credible Cuts
With the superhero, Green Lantern, super thug, super club, super love
Super clique, militant (Bust the beat)

[Verse 1: N.O.R.E.]
What up, Green? (Who that?) The Green Lantern, n***a
Always smoke green, I get my green from Manhattan, n***a
Come to the room live, n***a, we call it the Jax
No soberness, drunk while spittin' a verse
No furniture, just a couple of chairs
B-Note with that rosi' and a couple of beers
I had to move on 'em n***as like I'm holdin' a fifth
Streets alive, and, boy, I got a bucket to spit
Stink shit, like when you cook a bucket of fist
But we ain't cookin' that shit when we layin' in the underdome
Don't fuck white girls, I learned from n***a, Colby Holmes
And I believe that Colb and Mike Jack' innocent
Just like OJ, believe they all innocent
I'm Puertro Rican, so I rooted for the Trinidad
But I know [?][1:10] really came and whipped his ass
Top of the year, top of New York, Iraq
You don't compare, that's just a Dom gettin' courted
Won't happen like Bin Laden in Manhattan eatin' pork (Ew)
It don't make sense now, even when you check the digits
Don't look good like gyal man with mad bitches
[Verse 2: Nature]
And, word to Green Lant, I'ma have to cut ya
And if you a punk, you on TV with Ashton Kutcher
And if you ask, do some push-ups and laps around the hood
You don't know me? You better ask around the hood, n***a
I'll make a name for ya, got a paid lawyer
Better than [?], can y'all believe it?
Guess who's the man like LeBron in Cleveland (23)
Even without Ricky, the demons could not get me
Yo, I smoke the brown Dutch with a bitch wearin' Von Dutch
If it's some shit, they come around once
Just like a birthday, more like a holiday
I roll weed up, ohana way
Cliques gettin' fitted 'cause n***as could afford it (Get money)
But guess who's the one fuckin' Lionel Richie's daughter
I [?][2:01] out to Queens on some cool-out shit
But then everywhere I go, it's a shootout quick
A little blood on your new outfit means a good time
Don't blame me, it's just a hood rhyme for Green Leaves

[Outro: Nature & DJ Green Lantern]
Yo, N.O
God damn, the Armageddon