Nine Thou

[Verse 1: Tak]
Ayo, first things first
It's time to shake ground in the eighth round
Box battle and break down
For the beak in the rhyme tone
Jump in the cyclone
S-T-Y-L-E-S, yes I know
Give the rap fiend vaccine
Packed red beam
Put them up, what the fuck?
You plucked a bad seed
Off the wall, spitting the guerilla tag team
What's up now, duck down stuff that can't breathe

[Verse 2: Ryu]
Yo, you know the routine, the demon effect
Please, don't step, you wanna be one of my pet peeves?
The more beef the better; sound gay
But you all wanna sleep together, okay?
In the club we don't sneak Berettas
Why not? We got so much street credit, the fucking police let us
Now that's bullshit, cause we don't pack heat
So come and get your head cracked with a phat beat

[Hook]
Kick it, moving it's on now
Making it punk loud
Shaking the buck wild
Raping the punk style
Faking the funk pal
Dunk watch the punk
What now? Watch your battleship get sunk down
Click (click) pow (pow) nine (nine) thou (thou)
What? Just what I thought, what's up now?
Click (click) pow (pow) nine (nine) thou (thou)
Hu-hu, I'm like Hu-hu

[Verse 3: Ryu]
Hold it down, never give in
Styles ever get limbs
Or whether you want it to end
Dirty syringe, I murder 'em again
97 serving them sins
Uh 30 your friends get knocked out, turbulent wind
Hopped out, what you want, big verb in the gin
I'm a fish; you can tell by the hooks and the fins, c'mon

[Verse 4: Takbir]
Yo, I got a rock style
Pivot the offspring and joke with 'em
With a distorted gist off string
Who am I? Rushing what leg? Who and Tak?
Pushing your bed hotter than Quebec in July
Area 51, stereo, rive gun live
Here we go, S-O-B drop some
For the kids in the hall with the new block tape
Blast from both angles like boom dock saint
So get up get up and let the sound hit ya
Snap it's already your style picture

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Takbir]
Who the hell wear splitting the belly up on a selfish
Shinning in your style playin' the fell blitz
Drilling your brain, like rap and video games
Feel the syringe for the styles that stick in your brain

[Verse 5: Ryu]
Yo- what kind of shit is he on
Really is styles, really be on
C'mon punk fuck off; You really got to be gone
Ripped out of your brain
Pissed covered in shit to diss this S-O-B game
Son of a bitch
I'mma start killing for kicks
There ain't an air force 1 inn the globe I can't fit, get it?
I'm sick with it, when I spit the venom
And it drip's up in 'em
And it get's the women in a
Quick dilemma; We can settle it now
And I don't know who did it but they said it was styles

[Outro]
Click pow nine thou
What? Just what I thought, what's up now? (what's up now?)
Hu
I'm like Hu-hu-
Hu-
I'm like Hu-hu-
Hu-
Click pow nine thou
I'm like hu