Industrial Grade

[Verse 1: Illmaculate]
I'm abusive with the methods
And my crew will get respected
We move as a collective
This is music for the wretched
Ready to lose it in a second
We deadly, you'd be stupid to mess with these emcees
[...]
You can find us, puffin a blunt
Weapon is out, reppin the town up in the cut (Portland)
I need cheddar along with someone to trust
The eyes on the back of my head
See better than the ones in the front
Hindsight's 20/20
We want five mics because we hungry
We got nine lives because we study our enemies' moves and find patterns
We step in the booth, we're spreading the truth to these blind rappers

[Verse 2: IAME]
We might have to paint the sky black
Just to watch you get no shine after you denied access
Now within my line of sight has got me inclined to fight back
My third eye's wide open, the other two are slightly cracked
All I do is write this graphic novel in graphic language
And the blazing path that follows you can't extinguish
Young delinquents [...] and get famous but don't think first
Blow the advance for the thrill of dough in their hands (don't seem worth it)

[Chorus]
We don't like sand, I heard it tastes like dirt
X2

[Verse 3: Ethic]
Put your face against metal and meditate
On how you never made an escape from the demons
That we feeding the taste of your blood
You bleeding, we leaving you weakened
Keeping it heated you feeding from Eden
And Sandpeople they see and defeat
We deep to the core, beating doors down, the forced entrance
Against media whores that explore their own interests
We don't even the score, we leading the war
If you need that dope shit, we an immediate source

[Verse 4: Gold]
Calm your barker or get slain with an archer's aim
Chalk your body up with spit where the red carpet lays
Portland's a a tad bit darker day-walkers trapped in the rain
A chaotic blaze dance to Sandpeople [...] (that's money in the bank)
These artists draw a blank, you're dead without pain
[...] just a heavy conscience falling over the ledge
There's no crossing our paths without going over a bridge or two
It's that Northwest original, we more or less invincible

[Chorus]
We don't like sand, I heard it tastes like dirt