Blockbuster Night Pt. 1 (Live From SXSW / 2015)

[Verse 1: Killer Mike]
Bunches and bunches, punches is thrown until you’re frontless
Oodles and oodles, bang bullets at suckers' noodles
Last album? Voodoo! Proved that we was fuckin' brutal
I’m talking crazy, half past the clock is cuckoo
You rappers doodoo, baby shit, just basic boo boo
I’m Shaka Zulu, Mansa Musa, my money's beaucoup
My beats is bangin’, fuck what you rappin, who produced you?
I slapped the snot, take what ya got and Run The Jewels you

[Verse 2: El-P]
You itsy bitsy, furry frightened and frickin' sickly
A little prickly, dick on display for winter swimming
Look at these kiddies, Mike, I'mma rat-a-tat 'em for living
I deal in dirty work; do the deed and then dash—ditch 'em
I'd lend a hand but it's stuck in a fist and gun position
We run a brand where destruction's the number one commitment
It’s all a joke between mom contractions and coffin fittings
So we disappear into smoke like we're fucking magicians

[Verse 3: Killer Mike & (El-P)]
No hocus pocus, you simple suckers been served a notice
Top of the morning, my fist to your face is fucking Folgers
(We might be giants, standing on little dandy shoulders)
You punks is pussy, proverbial pansy panty holders
I Jake the Snake ‘em, DDT ‘em in mausoleums
Macabre massacres killing cunts in my coliseum
(They all actors, giving top in back of a BM
I’d fall back if the casting calls are ending in semen)

[Verse 4: EL-P]
I'm the foulest, no need for any evaluation
I'm a phallus, a Johnson, a jimmy spraying faces
Any cow that is sacred will get defaced
Like any tyrant murderer gets replaced, face it
The fellows at the top are likely rapists
But you're like, "Mellow out, man, just relax
It's really not that complicated"
Well pardon me, I guess I'm just insane as you explained
Or maybe sanctifying the sadistic is deranged

[Verse 5: Killer Mike]
This Run The Jewels is: murder, mayhem, melodic music
Psychotics use it to lose it, junkies simply abuse it
That's word to Phillip Seymour Hoff' and I'm kushin', coughin'
I probably smell like a pound when they put me in a coffin
The gates of hell are pugnaciously pacin', waitin'
I give a fuck if I'm late, tell Satan be patient
But I ain't here for durations, I'm just taking vacations
And tell him fuck him, I never loved him and salutations