BBU n’ Phillip Mo

[Intro]
BBU n’ Phillip Mo
Straight from the goal
It’s ya boi Epic signin’ on
(HUAH!)

[Verse 1: Epic]
Hi world, say hello to the bad guy
(Hey)
Some hatin’, I don’t even have to ask why
(Why?)
Get all my pharcyde shit, let it pass by
Get all my QBP shit and let the lead fly
Viacom for hip-hop on standby
Gucci Mayne (Ai!) a high self, yous a damn liar
(Brrrrr!)
We more than ice-drippers
Hype hipsters
Dime flippers
Syrup sippers
And fine pictures
The radio ain’t never been faithful
So fuck you and every slave that you paid for
Unleash war on the industry we pourin’
On these city streets
You can picture epic, can you picture me?
At the door of Viacom with firearms
Negatin’ alarms
Minds said a young Saddam
Grab the CEO and both his arms
Take over your network , nigga, and bump this song

[Verse 2: Illekt]
I smoke daily, you can call me Richard(richer)
I focus on the game trying to see the bigger picture
These MCs playing double dutch
I’m tryna be a fixture
And you ain’t round long enough for me to even miss ya
I’m in the lab with my crew we whipping up the perfect mixture
Just to hit you, with some of that ill scripture
I’ll be that rap virtuosso
Lyrically Picasso
Blue-Collar certified
Underground apostle
Man I can’t stop, no ain’t gunning for the top, though
Just want to rock flows, get some dough and shows you know I got those
‘Cause I’m a miracle child
And I was never ‘sposed to stop rapping with these lyrical styles

[Verse 3: Jasson]
Yes, yes, yo
Oh hecky, no
I think I want to kidnap Rush Limbaugh
Take him for a ride to the South side
Put him in a grand, drag in white sheet
Watch him get beat to the white meat
Declare might be dead but the children still alive
So I sit and fantasize t-bags and we drive-bys
It’s that
Border-line hate-rap
Chi-town movement
Raised by the backpack
Take away this backpack rap, I might have to relapse
Go back to rhyming, like fucker, you don’t need that
Here we here we go with my silly little flow
But real, I want to ride, go home, and text (?)
Make that fucker know what it means to be broke
See that fucker’s face when his condo get foreclosed
See these stone-painted pictures
Are failed Marxist porn
‘Cause if I didn’t, I wish I wasn’t born

[Phillip Mo]
Yo
I tell lies to focus groups and steer panels
This stand alone antidotic clear channel
The system doesn’t work as advertised
But still it works to satisfy its urgent appetite
And the blow back happens as they work to pacify the beast
(Rar)
Compassion made a left it’s swervin’ past society next
It couldn’t pass a sobriety test
And the lyin’ media tyrants help devise their cheap threats
Force fed fear
I don’t care for dessert, brother
Combat your fresh gear with a terror alert, color
We juke upon the landmines
Blackwater in haliburton, travellin’ sands and workin’ on their tanlines
(US!)
Consistently bickering over right and wrong
(THEM!)
While the bullshit keeps moving right along
It’s bigger than hip-hop
Bigger than dialogue
So goodnight, and good luck
Phillip signin’ off