J-Live, Obsession, Wizdom Life, A.L., and Kwest Tha Madd Lad Freestyle (A Trip Below)

[Intro: Eddie Ill, D.L., HB, and J-Live]
Eddie Ill: Yo, this is Eddie Ill
D.L.: And D.L
HB: HB
Eddie Ill: Featuring beats by Rich Boogie
D.L.: Taking you a trip below
HB: 120 minutes of hot hip hop joints
Eddie Ill: So stay with us
J-Live: Yeah, y’all. J-Live for Eddie Ill & D.L. Check it out. Yeah, y’all. Mad emcees

[Verse 1: J-Live]
Now presiding in this court of hip hop justice, my rap forte
Is judge, jury, bailiff, and prosecuting DA
‘Cause, ceteris paribus, my modus operandi
Is carpe diem, whether de facto or de jure
Comprende? The people versus you and your sensei
For teaching that style of wordplay weaker than Wednesday
Regardless of what your friends say, they’re all dissable
Stricken from the record and deemed inadmissible
While this long arm of the law grabs the mic to
Shoot dope lines first and ask questions later
The deaf sentences of this Live litigator
Could close a case tighter than the jaws of a gator
Stenographers are steady logging the jargon
That your counselors are barking in hopes of a plea bargain
But when you read back verbatim what they're saying
To persway ‘em, you'll realize exactly how I ate ‘em
I come with the truth, whole truth, and nothing but
'Cause the truth hurts just as much as fucking with Live will
I’ll prove skill with refills from now until
Plagiarizing emcees get their flows distilled

[Verse 2: Obsession]
Flow distilled. Let me see, I paid the bills
Representing on the reals. Let me see, yo
We bring it back to the essence of the beats and snares
With kinetic energy to magnetize your ears
Some be trying to kill this, but, yo, we just don’t care
Some say to save music—yo, they just can’t hear
But if you feel what we feel, throw your hands in the air
We keep it hot like corduroys, on top like cashmere
BK is in my soul, so you know my roots
I spread love like hummus mixed in with couscous
If you ask me my age, I’ll say I’m deu-deuce
Perception’s acute, but my sound is obtuse
Wide enough for the world to enjoy, intake, use
Stay high profile like Jews in Zoot Suits
Shout to that kid, spin a cue with Mike Zoot
My man Matt, who’s in the place, I feel you
But keep it positive ‘cause, then, God will fill you
Yo, can we turn the lights out so I could feel the rock?
Keep it live like ’85 when I was listening to
Doug E. Fresh with Slick Rick. They had the liquid
Type of flow. Representing. First initial: O
Next initial: B, S-E. You see me, Obsession
I got to leave without a question. Freaks and
Peace to all the other emcees who’s in the session

[Verse 3: Wizdom Life]
In the session, coming with the blessings
Peep my mind state. Peep my...
Peep my mind state. My mind take its trips
Strip crews, split crews, snatch dips
Smash whips, blind your sights like solar eclipse
Less concerned with cash chips. I use
Wits to come to grip. My feets don’t slip
Timbos is fully laced. With open arms
I’m embraced, giving ears a taste. Oh, what
A waste, for heaven’s sakes. Wizdom Life
Give to all that listen, bring demolition
Without silly ammunition, get caught up in a
Awkward position. Tell me who plays victim
From verbal diction? Never science fiction
Been rhyming since the days of candy, grew up a new edition
The plot thickens. Played it for chickens, unless
Served with rice. Wizdom knife slice a mic
Device. I’ll tell you now: you’d better heard the words
Of advice. Could be the difference between death and life
Keep it nice. Aight?

[Interlude 1: A.L.]
Yo, yo, A.L. representing, you know’m saying? Word up. D.L., check it out, yo

[Verse 4: A.L.]
Ayyo, my rap is vicious. I’m aiming mics at the sacrilegious
Attracting bitches, I’m making moves ‘cause I’m stacking riches
Searching the culprit, the nigga who insulted
My lyric powers are bombs so strong, I’ll leave your skull feel
All out of this world, beyond any type of satellite
Enabling me to get in ya, eat you like a parasite
So pass the mic so I can hit you with the grammar
My mic is a hammer, blowing your mind like a scanner
Mental’s a slammer. Getting it on, pursuing the wack
Bruising the pack with an aluminum bat
So quit it, kid. I’ve been rhyming before you’re learning your vowels
Treat emcees like swimmers, making ‘em turn in the towel
Burning the owl, staying wise ‘cause I’m where they star
Covered in lead so I could pass every radar
Niggas is flapping when they rapping. Niggas ain’t
Saying nothing like Charlie Chaplin. What they capping?
Attacking, A.L. getting the platinum. Of course
I’m Latin. Niggas know I’m smoother than the satin
On the D.L., I stay well. A.L
Brain state swell. What? I bring fucking hell. What?

[Interlude 2: Kwest Tha Madd Lad]
(Hahahaha) Check, check. Check

[Verse 5: Kwest Tha Madd Lad]
Most lack the depth perception to accept something of such perfection
Too busy stressing check collection to rep and bless a section
But Kwest has an Obsession with Supernatural Wizdom
I never took a L/A.L. unless ism was in him
But if I do, I like my L’s Fudge. When I rock
On the microphone, it doesn’t budge, so can I get a judge?
When it come to rhyme, I.G. Off and Hazadous
Because, you know, I’m like a gun, kid—I have to bust
I’m forgetting names but it still comes the same
I give kids swift noogies when I listen to Rich Boogie
Beats, they be like treats coming from the top of the heat
The piles compile and then you say my style is deep
Like digging for uranium. I get deep inside your cranium
My rhymes are mine, so ain’t no need for me to explain in them (Whoo!)
You’re draining ‘em, painting ‘em. I’m gaining some
And losing some, abusing some, but I’m never losing sum
I’m losing some with the mentals when it comes off the mental
Without the aid of an instrumental or a pencil, it’s never simple
It’s intricate when get into it. I’ll leave your temple
Dimpled with that old, over-the-top simple shit
So what’s the dealie? Can you feel me? Even, um
Buddhists know I’m true to this because I’m not new to this
My mind is like a computer chip and you be the nucleus
That’s split in half like an atom. Wack emcees, let me at ‘em
Niggas be like, “Damn, you’re large,” let my verbal
Barrage hit ‘em and leave my tongue coated in camouflage
So when you be at a party and the DJ spin a record
You be like, “Ayyo, D.L. is nice”
Excuse me, I meant to say, “Eddie.” Drop like confetti
Cut just like I’m check. Wack emcees ain’t ready
Yeah, I messed up, but guess what? Kwest still comes dressed up
On the D.L., Eddie