The Rhyme Heaterz (The Symphony XXI)

[Intro]
The rhyme heater! Mikey D is back again!

[Verse 1: Mikey D]
Mikey D, the rhyme heater and the leader of the pack
A loaded 9 millimeter that'll meet ya in the back
Of the club or the pub, drive your hearse to the church
Google search Mikey D, (The baddest MC on Earth)
Or Twitter a nigga, wear your shades, the neck glitter
Can never be bitter, so respect the babysitter
Took a seat back, but off the meat rack
Better believe that, I fell off?
Y'all niggas smokin'! (Where the weed at?)
I paved the way now I gotta save the day
Real legends don't die we just (Fade away)
Give me a reason to get even if you do, you ain't leaving
If you live you ain't breathin' no more
Day to evening
Lights out, Mike's house, big cat, mice out
New rappers ain't a fraction of me, that I doubt
DJ Slice and Mercury, no Serato
Just a mixer and a needle that'll fix ya
Turntable that'll feed ya
Hip-hop from the block, not that industry pop
We'll make the game stop, until the elements drop
My team from Russia would love ta reach out and touch ya
Break ya back, camel clutch ya, just for fuckin' with this nucka
Gotta breathe then pick it back up
Then I run these cats over like a Mickey Mack truck
Been reppin' the game so don't question the name
Since Rakim and Kane, I'm the best when I came
If you gotta problem with it you could see me on the stage
Or you could get your muscle on and try to beat me in the cage
It doesn't make a difference, I'm the truth, you know it!
You can't deny my props, Salute! You owe it!

R.A. The Rugged Man
The rhyme heater!
What!

[Verse 2: R.A. The Rugged Man]
Turn the mic on, party on the block
Hip to the hippie hip hop
And ya don't stop
Slang from Coke La Rock
I love the bitch, not Common
I'm crate diggin', record shoppin', sample choppin'
I flip anything from big beat, Billy Squier to Janis Joplin
I'm devastatin' like Tito [?] to Squadron
Keep the beat bumpin', need something
The key function, with the Mike E-P-D deep as destruction
And if the DJ in the club never spun it, bum rush it
They Bradberried something, we could dis [?]
From the TR-808 to the SP-1200
Then I hit it like a high note from Patti LaBelle's stomach
Battle champ, body catchin'
Mike, give 'em hell rappin'
From the beef with LL to Melle Mel belt snatchin'
Locked up jail bait, kids know neither
This hypno Bieber, his dick go deeper
Hit like a jab Vitali Klitschko reach ya
Old school like sound from Disco Fever (Uh!)
Needle to the wax, two turntables
Like The Penguins' doo-wop gave birth to Earth Angles
Pop culture brainwashed eat brains heat frames street reigns
Leave you shook like VHS freeze frames
This MC toy foes when he eat toy foes when he destroy foes in a b-boy pose
Carry cardboard boxes where the crooked cops is
And the hookers is topless, kids in the coke and rock biz
WBLS Frankie Crocker, cop Glock poppers
Chased down the block followed by police helicopters, come on

Next up yo, (I believe that's me)
Craig G (The rhyme heater!)
Look

[Verse 3: Craig G]
It's not a game or a script, a cast or ensemble
No laugh tracks we passed that
Yo, here's the problem
Legalize Craig G will deep fry you
On that mic, see we let them cause terror times two
A lot of rappers hold it fireproof in that booth
Touch that stage all their insecurities they shine through
Show me the bar facts
Email me, I'm on the tarmac
20 shows, 2 weeks, 2 days? Yeah, I'm on that
Contact, can I get a hit?
That's what you'll say chasin' producers on some A&R's dick
I'd rather independently release the bomb shit
Don't be playin' with my paper you can plead the long fifth (Aww shit!)
The end of an era we clearin' cancer
It's finally in remission so fire your backup dancers
California dreamin' highest kites in the dispensary
You are witnessin' the connect of the century
Time told on a Rolex moves perpetually
Shrapnel from the lyrics discombobulation trajectories
International, see we not just on the block now
Known around the globe, Memphis Tennessee to Moscow

Yo Canibus man, what's up man
I caught you on the cut with (The rhyme heater!)

[Verse 4: Canibus]
Playing through his box, throw sapphire rocks
First line of defense for MCs, line 'em up
Cold fusion vocal solution next up
For bicycle bombs go off as soon as you peddle
Yeah I'm long in the tooth, stood strong in the booth
Second place only means you're the first to lose
Third place is only here for alternative views
Nothing but awws and oohs and ones and twos
Give me the props, set the wildfire hip hop
High tech Kevlar polymer protect that [?]
21 cannon salute
51 buttons on the [?] for you to sample the loop
До свидания. Belly up to the bar for vodka
Mikey D, me and [?] throwing up in the chopper
Check your rhythm and your timing
And accept the assignment
Every five-thou styles synthetic for high mileage
We drop gems like jewel thieves
Lost [?] Kool Keith
Jump in the pool, plan for fresh beef
All good, New York, New York hood
Playin' secrets, run around in the woods with ax and hoods
This is their hell now but once upon a time it was mine
But one day I'll leave it all behind
After the S500, not a Benz I.C.P.M
Let's play post-Apocalyptic pretend
Any enemy of an enemy is not our friend
Our only enemy is time because it blocks our strength
[?] bars over the beat, complete
Canibus, Rugged Man, Mikey D

Who's the nicest MC, from New York to Russia!