[Verse 1] Rainy day, question if I’ll ever see the sun again/ Shade of gray, darker than the method to the pun intended/ For the one who recommended representin’ repetition/ Just to get the rest to listen to your pile of bullshit/ I’m full-clipse, you just shells with no grip/ Upon reality, too caught up in your movement/ To see the truth went right out the door the proof went/ Now they in the puddin’ puttin’ property to blueprints/ Gotta be the blues, man, that prompted me to do shit/ ‘Bout these muddy waters I’ve been walkin’ in my new kicks/ Who’s this? Docktor Speckter, prolly not the cool kid/ Brought up with the thought, why not to wear it if the shoe fits/ Give two shits, about the merit when I bare it/ I’m not the type of rapper that be naming off apparel I ain’t wearin’/ So they ain’t puttin’ me on/ I grab the microphone and then I’m . . . gone/ Enter the chamber: 4th to be exacter than a metal razor/ That’s when I made a pact to practice how to carve your face up/ Face the front, don’t make that face if you gon’ face your son/ Remain a racer until the race is won/ Sue Sarandon, we chasing circles ‘till the paper come/ These loose cannons always waiting on the patient ones/ To make something of they self before they say to breaker-one/ Uh, we caught a case so we gon’ make a run/

We Have No Kings Here (Interlude) [Verse 1] Who in they right mind ain’t losin’ they right mind?/ When I spy, with my crooked eye, from ‘pon the sideline/ A wise-guy, tryna’ match the shine and steal the limelight/ I’m like ‘aight’, it’s time to lay shit down like pipeline/ You’re damn right, I drop a line about Alaska/ ‘Nuff respect to Larry Fish, for droppin’ corny as Nebraska/ I dare to pick a path that’s difficult to travel/ With an image hard to mimic, let alone to even capture/ The point I’m getting at is sharper than aristocrat/ The only time you interact with rap is when you in the lab/ I’m tryna’ get my culture-cypher, not my pen and pad/ Spit saliva on the microphone to get it damp/ That’ll only get a laugh from half who claim to get it/ If you got it, good gangsta’, you’re a proper good anchor/ For the critic, who didn’t, good riddance/ I get applauded, as you hear the sound of crickets/ [Chorus 2x] I got a way to go to get to where I gotta’ be/ I could either play the cards I’m dealt, or play the lottery/ I’ve been to all degrees of hell, ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me/ Dante Alighieri in A Def.Divine.Comedy/ [Verse 2] Rippin’ new assholes to spitters with whack prose/ I’m that cold, givin’ you the shivers ‘till you flash-froze/ Catch me at a backroad with hatchet and a mask on/ Askin’ for directions, to the nearest rap show/ I’m ‘boutta get my slash on, if I hear a sad song of six pence/ Pocket full of rye, I got the flask on/ I’m mad drunk, so I be full of no compassion/ Like the fully loaded magnum I’d be wavin’ if I had one/ I’m sick and tired of tryna’ beat around the thorn bush/ I warned ya, fuck around with bull and get the horns, bruh/ Pour me another one directly from the corpus/ Planetary body, keep it movin’ like an orbit/ With no shortage of morbid shit pourin’ in/ The Goldilocks that put the poison in your porridge, kid/ The get-the-coin-quick, rich scheme, coin flip/ 50-50 chance that you’ll be sleepin’ with the fishies, so enjoy it/ Coy delivery, soak it in an overfished ocean/ With a hook that’s only hopin’ for a bite/ No dice, the whole time/ I was adrift in a thought, now land a sight for sore eyes/ [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3] Third time around be the charm, so I’m grounded/ Hounding any motherfucker that be clowning on the outfit/ I’m talking D.R.D the township, I’m ‘bout it/ ‘Bout it, motherfucker you’re surrounded/ Cuz we outdid you when we were drawing up the battle plan/ We out to prove you out of order as an anagram/ You boutta have an accident, so call the ambulance/ I’m Maximus Meridius Aurelius, the heavy hand/ The petty man, that pity the cemetery dance/ Movin’ with the strength of ants, so we could “Wu” the clan/ Howlin’ at the man in the moon, not too soon to assume/ That we the pack of wolves that bringin’ back the Utter Doom/ Style from the Boon’s while, wowing a new crowd/ You shoulda’ knew about the style cuz it moves mounts/ I’ve ruled out the foul play, we cool now/ So take a chill pill, allow yourself to cool down/

[Verse 1] Easy rider, with the bucket seat beneath the driver/ Streets on fire from the fuckin’ heat that eat The Wire/ Fiber-optics, I’m listenin’ to the profits/ While fixin’ to pin narcotics in your pockets just to get me higher/ Sire, why don’t you finish him like Shin’ and Stryker?/ Shit, cuz I’m liable as winter wind to chill the spine of/ The fuckin’ spineless when the rhyme gets to divine depths/ The troubled mindsets of the times gets to define Def/ I fly the crest as if my life and limb were represented/ Instrument of Def, they resurrect again, defying death/ So guess again when nephilim begin to eye the text/ I’d bet a pretty penny many men be dying yet/ Inclined to be the best, I free the mind, releasing stress/ Constantly repeat to see the best results, and leave the rest/ In the dust, at the cusp of something not to be entrusted/ In the hands of Justice, this will scare the public/ [Chorus] Yeah, I’m Kenny Powers, and you’re fuckin’ out/ Too many cowards stuck around and couldn’t shut they mouth/ Then hung around for about the amount of time it takes/ Lights out, camera, action, hit me with them finer things/ Uh, I’m Kenny Powers, and you’re buggin’ out/ Too many cowards stuck around and couldn’t shut they mouth/ Then hung around for about the amount of time it takes/ Lights out, camera, action, hit me with them finer things/ [Verse 2] They call us warriors, cuz we come out to play/ We see the horror through the corneas that cloud the way/ You see euphoria, you wish it here to stay/ The question guts or glory, answer’s only clear as day/ Because I’m dark as Knight, therefor I’m here to prey/ Upon the weak who talkin’ cheap, and commandeered the phrase/ That’s too severe to say, while I be tryna’ hear the say/ All too often steerin’ clear away as I appear to stay/ Calmest under pressure as I monitor the present/ Like a vulture or a buzzard, I am circling you pheasants/ You prolly thought I called you peasants, cuz you’re that dense/ Meanwhile the situation worsen in to a dead end/ You dead men, who tell no tales and sink no fuckin’ ships/ Settin’ sail for sanctuary, settlin’ for leak and drip/ I keep a 5th of Knocker stashed in Davey’s Locker/ I’m just asking for some peacefulness, cocking back the piece a bit/ [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3] Yo it’s the witch doc, the medicine man of Hip Hop/ In gridlock, boutta’ lick a shot, like Wild Hickok/ My Uzi weighs a ton, so they be oozing more than inkblot/ The slipknot, tied it ‘round my neck, and then I cliff dropped/ Just when all you bitches thought, that you went and killed the Dock/ The Speckter resurrected for the vengeance, and to steal the guap/ Just to make it clear to y’all who praying for a miracle/ There ain’t no use without the ear to even hear the call/ Awww shit, your God is hard of hearing dawg/ Me, I be the light upon the distance, that you’re peering off/ As the crow flies, I pulled the wool over my own eyes/ Then collide, with the ceiling cuz they sealed him in a box/ D.R.D we been at large, now we the Grid Iron Gang/ We play the cards and roll the dice and got the tighter slang/ You couldn’t hang beyond a shadow of a doubt/ When you were told what Def.Divine’s about, we keep tellin’ ‘em/ [Chorus 2x]

[Verse 1: Docktor Speckter] Started off as a young buck/ Hardly givin’ one fuck, just stuck to what was up in son’s gut/ I’m punch drunk, reminiscing on what once was/ The Onceler, walking definition, get your funds up/ I’m hinting at that One Love, but I’d rather Hit ‘Em Up/ Like ‘Pac done to one ‘em up, tell them boys their run is up Like Jay Electronica, the day I was thunderstruck/ I ran amuck, tryna’ get the picture, like a shutterbug/ So pucker up, cuz it’s the way you’ll be remembered/ By pollers voting to erase you from existence/ I’m paging through your business, prayin’ for forgiveness/ Gone without a trace, but can I pay another witness/ To risk it? Put it on the line and toss their chips in/ Just missed it, strip him of his glory and convict him/ What is this? ‘Nother case of hunting Salem Witches/ Like Nicholas the Wickerman, tryna’ keep these bitches at a distance/ [Chorus 2x: Speight the Villain] Fuck a pay-pal, ya’ll Peter to Paul/ And if not, you back up, like the heater’s involved/ When the vocal box pop, and it’s treated like raw/ We them Smooth Criminals, the world need a Shamone, c’mon/ [Verse 2: Speight the Villain] Cuz I drop in grindin’, Andy Macdonald/ Stop all this rap talk, it can be bravado/ But it’s not for Def.Rhymes, ya’ll too campy to swallow/ Blowin’ hot air, we the Sandy to follow/ So it’s get it, got it, good gangsta’, illest approach/ Copped that Big Sean, what, ya Dilla was broke?/ Ya shot King Kong, that’s the silliest quote/ Ya tri-plane ain’t mine, man, I splinter it broke/ I vote for New Hope, the Empire, smoked/ Hang together or separately, they tying the rope/ By dudes, heavy bitten, and they cryin’ at soaps/ So soft, they like Charmin in the mind of the Pope/ So quote, like Herman Mel’, had heard them shells/ Steady hurtin’ first like virgin tails/ So Hip Hop, you smell, the burnin’ of my purple well/ That’s who I be, ringleader of this circus hell/ [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3: Docktor Speckter and Speight the Villain] [Docktor Speckter] C’mon, you ain’t gotta have it all, to peep the catalogue/ I’m at a loss for lack of words, tryna’ keep the kettle hot/ I tend to write lines with divine ambition overlapping/ Eminent signs, like I’m quoting Isaac Asimov/ You only half as raw, we over heads as Astro/ Not a Jetson cuz I’m betting you I’ll never be an afterthought/ I have to rock - mics, Villain be like pass the rock/ The Smooth Criminal, I’m pickin’ past the masterlock/ [Speight the Villain] Be… beat faster by each rapper, the team snatch ya/ Meanwhile my speech patterns’ll reach Saturn/ That’s outer space, Smashin’ more than green Banner/ Gotta hand ya, the damage is branded outstandin’/ On that Dyrdek ridiculousness/ The industry a daycare, I’m tippin’ the crib/ Back-lippin’ is in? Camby high five to your face/ Say my name three times, Candyman has escaped, bitch/ [Chorus 2x]

[Verse 1] Uh, we got ‘em stuck of the realness, D.R.D illin’/ Yeah, you heard of us, official scene kid murderers/ Who seemed Ernest, when other’s were seen in service/ Of other regimes, fiends, thieves, and other purposes/ Uh, we keep ‘em reachin’ for the firmament/ Rollin’ up they sleeves, like they creepin’ through the dirt again/ The way I word it when I spit it mean I’m merciless/ The more I work it to the fix, the more I’m merkin’ this/ Terminus, it’ll be the death of you, like Edgar Allen/ Po’ people put the sket to you, like Federales/ The track is livin’ and breathin’, the rhymes are metabolic/ The checkered flag in my hand, so I went ahead and dropped it/ Yeah, I all too often see the bigger picture/ Where, we have no option but pursue the riches/ But as for now I’m on some opportunity to rip it/ Dock presumably the prophet seeing through the rhythm/ [Chorus 2x] I leave ‘em scuffed up, fucked up, battered and bruised (the brute)/ J. McGee because I’m Shaq’tin’ a fool (the ruse)/ J. Lebowski, like I’m actin’ the dude (the cool)/ L. Fiasco, and I’m back to my roots/ [Verse 2] Dock Speck put the pussy on the chainwax/ Fuck a pedestal, I’m Keyed and Peelin’ out the racetrack/ So face facts, it’s what you make it when you play the racket-game/ Dreams of stackin’ paper just to craft a paper plane/ Taking me away, to a place where I could wrap my brain/ Around the notion we approachin’ to the last of days/ We can’t escape it, like phones that could tap a Matrix/ We can’t erase if we wrote it to pack a statement/ I roll with a pack of crazies, who only react deranged/ If you wanna be pushing daisies up, say what again (what again!)/ Cuz what’s against us is us, so who the figure to trust/ When all the victories clutched, and all resistance is/ (Crushed) by the powers that be/ I roll around in the Jeep to see the crowning of kings/ And things, ain’t what they used to be like Dukie E./ So do proceed to do the knowledge, not the foolery/ [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3] Ayo, the sports, rap, and war can force a man to do some crazy things/ No referendum for the flavor of the hate it breeds/ Major league danger make the saber seem safer/ When it’s hate or be hated, ain’t a place to meet your maker/ So see you later as I live to die another day/ Another way to say I live to shine another ray/ Because I’m sonnin’ ‘em, somethin’ this un-humblin’/ Doesn’t become humblin’ once you become somethin’ this great/ And this trade, shit could trouble a man/ It’s all gravy ‘till you wake up with a gun in your hand/ Or a price on your head, for the side that you rep/ If you don’t side with the Feds, then you’ll be winding up dead/ And same story for the other side/ They play the game, and I believe they call it homicide/ Honor binds no man to keep his fuckin’ word/ So if you scared, motherfucker go to church, bong bong!/ [Chorus 2x]

[Verse 1] The reach be to peaks, that’s steep, like rock climbers/ And the message is to be received like bonfires on horizons/ Word to the wise, who none the wiser/ From the psychic foreseein’ more biter than Rottweiler/ But no Lycan, I ain’t a sidekick or a hype man/ Kabuki with the side-kicks, and don’t forget the hyphen/ I’m stiflin’, punk motherfuckers at the mic stand/ Who triflin’, I’m talkin’ long con to slight scam/ The right man for the job, commandin’ a mob/ Of nasty motherfuckers that be clawing for the top/ Like this is Hip Hop, we just be takin’ what ours/ And praying for God’s forgiveness ‘till he’s takin’ the charge/ Or takin’ my case, in case I’m breakin the law/ By breakin’ your face, breakin’ ‘em off a taste of the raw/ We takin’ your place, like breakin’ locks and takin’ charge/ So safe to say that you’ll be takin’ the loss, I’m signing off/ [Chorus 2x] To who the fuck is it I owe the displeasure/ Go cue the music, so to do the unexpected/ Like envelope, you’re foldin’ up to this pressure/ Specktacula forever stirrin’ up the distemper/ [Verse 2] At twenty-three o’clock on the dot, I got the second hand/ So mentally I’m sharpening more tools than Leatherman/ For finicky-from-the-start rappers who hesitant/ By any means, who gon’ march back to the precedent/ Yet they never set one, like Stetson of the West won/ I’m steppin’ on the toes of my foes, no exceptions/ My color Specktrum is as infinite as clockwork/ You and your brethren equivalent to bratwurst/ You got served, then read ahead of the crossword/ At a loss for words, behind the curve of the shot heard/ From ‘round the third world, I’m talking cold/ But ain’t no fur coats, so lock and load, and drop the first yolk/ We cookin’ with gas now, and tryna’ have the last laugh/ The lab rat, we Breaking Bad, so where the stash at?/ You gas lamp, forever burnin’ on the oil/ While I’m turning up the voltage of a billion Tesla Coil/ [Chorus] [Verse 3] Refined taste of the craft is what it takes/ To describe to great lengths, of the crap that take the cake/ But you ain’t buyin’ it, you on some Black Bart, you pirate it/ Halfway in the game you took the pardon from the lion den/ The sleeping giant that woke up realizing/ To choke up his grip of the bat, heads started flying/ From the neck bone, who keep it sharper than a whetstone?/ No headroom, call him the Harbinger of Def.Tone/ No headphone, could do me justice like system/ I hit the ground runnin’ like a race, ain’t do this shit for fun/ The slicker tongue of the Speckter to get you sprung/ From the pen, it demand respect, for the rest of ‘em get you hung now/ And I ain’t talkin’ out to dry, more like to bait the hook/ You claim to rock the triple-eye, but you afraid to look/ You played and shook as the rook that got kinged/ When they put me in the tourney, man, I took the top seed/

[Verse 1: Docktor Speckter] You see the funny thing, is that we creepin’ up from underneath/ You just be plummeting, wondering what’s become of me/ Mind-state: cluttery, crime-rate: top of the charts/ You mock Dock and say goodbye to ever walkin’ the talk/ Fuck it, make it talkin’ at all/ I forgot to recall, I’m hoggin’ the rock, because you droppin’ the ball/ Takin’ shots in the dark, this ain’t the luck of the draw/ They picked the Docktor to start because I gots ‘em to fall/ Another metaphor for runnin’ game/ I came, saw, conquered, put competitor to shame/ So just remember the name ain’t Shane Mosley/ It’s King Mowgli, descendent of the greats/ On the Planet of the Apes, obey, for they watch closely/ I demonstrate, sound is sweet as cannoli/ I’m only a man, but I’ll be damned if this the game of Life/ My old man taught me always play it straight, like it’s/ [Chorus 2x: Docktor Speckter] One for the money roll, two for the show/ Three for them notable, Hip Hop quotables/ Go toe to toe with the coldest of hearts seen/ From the podium, within the Market of the Beast/ [Verse 2: Docktor Speckter] I Walk Hard, resemble a rockstar/ Be catchin’ you off guard, goddammit the top dog/ Off the motherfuckin’ leash, musically I’m farther/ Than your motherfuckin’ reach, I venture to hop yard/ Cuz it’s greener on the other side of the top charts/ You ought not to bother, don’t call it Avant Garde/ Call it godlike, gutter-ball, all night, coming raw/ All bite, you just be barkin’ when the sun is up/ The runner-up, underdog, stuck to the porch/ During the tug-of-war, while I was runnin’ the floor/ I’m stuntin’ for sure, krumpin’, I’m pumpin’ ‘em up, they lovin’ the flow/ Gutter approach, sonnin’ ‘em when I’m bustin’ a note/ And cuttin’ the throat of the biggest threat/ So I be knowin’, not hopin’ to hopefully be the best, while/ They forkin’ over a token of they respect/ Cuz in the Market of the Beast it ain’t easy to cheat death, now/ [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3: D-Lo the Martyr] My motivation is lack of dedication/ To anything other than a beat and a hook/ I get mistook for being subtle, a silent muzzle/ On the tip of your dome, try to step son, you’ll stumble/ Soul brother number one plus nothin’/ D-Lo the Martyr, kid, now let me tell you somethin’/ Ever since a young age, I been with it/ They sent my ass to jail, no chance to be acquitted/ I’m rappin’ for the 970, call it FoCo/ Smoked a lot of weed in it, I think I’m still high, yo/ Smoked a lot of weed, I went from corny bitch to maestro/ Slept with plenty women, went from virgin to a ‘you know’/ I’m talkin’, triple beams, my wet dreams involving CREAM/ Metaphor for money, not the shit up on your face, eh/ I never rap alone, seven brothers hold the throne Gangster rap is what I own, you little pussies stay at home/ [Chorus 2x]

[Verse 1] This shit is radiation rap, the awakening of giants/ Isolated case, where my wager’s on the science/ It’s alive, but will never stand to side with/ You, or the lies that you plan on keepin’ silent through the crisis/ You too reliant on your vices/ So what the fuck you gonna do with terror on the rise, bitch?/ Coincide with it, homie we gon’ ride with it/ Hiroshima-like, cuz I’ll be blowin’ up in my city/ (Boom) how old is too soon to die young?/ Goldblum, room without a view, I got the fly tongue/ So why run, when you could turn and face your fuckin’ fears?/ Instead you’re turning face and duckin’ when I’m comin’ near/ The puppeteer, because I’m cuttin’ all the strings loose/ I’m fuckin’ here to bring the ruckus to your gene-pools/ And reboot, like the button on your iSuit/ To high profile status, something like a Kaiju/ [Sample] [Verse 2] This right here be the motherfuckin’ anthem/ Of the bombers, no atomic/ And the monsters that didn’t shoot an and-one/ Hand spun webbing on the conscience of a man’s son/ Which means you can’t run, and can’t hide/ You’re damn right, the Docktor Speckter be the landslide/ Victory of ants, while your history depends/ On the misery of mans, that be livin’ for the franchise/ Vampires on a legacy of blood sucked/ Damn biters be the parody of what’s what/ It’s fucked up, because apparently I’m up-stuck/ Just like the Pyrenees or Pericles amongst the/ Upper rungs of the ones that see the light/ In the blunders of the fight, between the sun against the night, bitch/ I’m fuckin’ sidin’ with the sun if he’s my sidekick/ Cuz otherwise I’ll be the motherfucker gettin’ blinded/ [Sample] [Verse 3] Dock Speck, but with a blade I be the hacktivist/ So fuck fate, if you a hack, you gettin’ hacked to bits/ And it be safer not to act a bitch/ I’m just saying, cuz the crazy be the last to kick/ The fuckin’ bucket, but the first to bite the dust/ Line ‘em up the funnel towards the spider’s touch/ Yeah, they used to shutter at the sight of us/ And now they wanna’ side with us, but I just wanna size ‘em up/ To live action of A Bug’s Life/ Fuck right, I know it’s wrong if I just wanna fuck, right?/ But overnight I metamorphosized/ Tortured eyes, starin’ straight ahead of where the fortune lies/ To where the diggers of the graves go/ To give ‘em shivers, or the willies, what we aim for, and/ What we came for is answers to the same story/ Ample variations say they got a different name for/

[Verse 1] Got another letter in the mail today/ Municipal court, sayin’ there’s hell to pay/ Already mailed away my life’s savin’s/ Ain’t even got enough to make the next payment/ Shorted on my statement, holdin’ out the paycheck that make rent/ What am I to do, provide a few more that don’t make ends/ With the type of life that I would like, to try to make amends/ Bitch I meant amendments to the snakes that tried to shake my hand/ After spittin’ in my face, act as if we all good/ Algorithm interlaced with ratchet, now we all ‘hood/ Malnutrition evident as African Somalia/ Remind us to rewind us to Rwanda ‘fore we wall it up/ [Chorus] Uh, feels like I’m back in the Land of the Lost/ Mentally off, sendin’ ‘em back, like a lamb of the gods/ You play your cards right, player, you can walk like/ Simpson on a mountain, touch The Void, and even talk like . . . you was El Diablo/ Really you back in the Land of the Lost/ Mentally off, sendin’ ‘em back, like a lamb of the gods/ You play your cards right, player, you can walk like/ Simpson on a mountain, touch The Void, and even talk like . . . [Verse 2] . . . Like a commoner, that’s hardly makin’ cents/ Respect the moniker, but conqueror don’t pay the rent/ At least I’m positively bombin’ shit to make amends/ My crater killed the dinosaurs, you hardly made a dent/ A rap colossus with a nasty conscience/ Slap-box and be like Watto with a fat proboscis/ I be like water, way I pad the pockets/ Jurassic Park, motherfucker, bringin’ back the fossils/ As if they already dead/ The job of Docktor Speckter’s resurrecting the heads/ Because the rest of ‘em fled from continents, like what you read about/ The only difference, you opted for the scenic route/ I see ‘em out, respected host within the culture-cypher/ Lookin‘ like they seen a ghost, and I ain’t poltergeistin‘/ Lone tyrant, likeness of the lone survivor, then/ Blaow! More in the holster than the whole Macgyver/ [Chorus] [Verse 3] Like you the big cajones, really you Mad Max on a mad dash/ Fittin‘ to backdraft on the rat pack, ‘till they backlash/ Could it be Black Hatz, that captured your attention homie?/ That been promoting using deadly force, no Ben Kenobi/ I bent the bogie just to look so Afro Samurai/ Too bad that stogie don’t attest that I’m a stand up guy/ Like Jack, who ran awry without a trace in fact/ A man of lies who can’t abide the rule of racing tracks/ Because they all cylindrical/ You claim to hate the craft, because it’s all too cynical/ I’m all subliminal, in message and the act alike/ So heed the message in the after-bite/ We keepin’ record just to pass the time/ Dock Speckter, here, the FIN, he be the mastermind/ I maximize the grind to Max Calibre/ Calipers, piecing back the mind, where the matter was/ [Chorus]

[Verse 1: Docktor Speckter] Ayo, fly me to the sun like I was Icarus, rigorous/ Rap flow ridiculous, but so hot it be blisterin’/ Like fickle bitches sleepin’ on your crew more than barbiturate/ Gettin’ ‘em the picture, like the cat burglar dippin’ with/ The spittin’ image of the ticket to the risky business/ I’m sippin’ Guinness like I’m Popeye with a can of spinach/ Knock another one back, pocket full of blunt wraps/ Not to be the bum, but Docktor Speckter’s bringin’ grunge back/ Like Dirt’ Bastard or Kurt, I gets blasted at work/ And bursted out laughin’ at him as he sat with a smirk/ This be a permanent, state of red alert/ Or like a tournament of death, one life, you gotta earn it, kid/ [Chorus 2x: SachmoFlo] Rumor, punk MC’s be suckin’ more than Hoover/ The rule of, thumb be not to dumb it down like stupor/ For future, reference that ill sense of humor/ Recommend you catch it like the 3:10 to Yuma/ [Verse 2: Docktor Speckter] Ayo, fly me to the moon like I’m Sinatra’s impostor/ I gots to bloom, in other words I gotta prosper/ And blossom, play amongst the stars and speak the jargon/ Cuz it’s too damn hard to pull the cart like you the oxen/ And walkin, skies, like you in the Rogue Squadron/ And dodgin’ fire from the fighters on the watch, man/ Get off him, I prefer to kill it like a marksman/ Often at a distance, while they lookin’ at they watch, man/ It’s gonna’ cost ‘em to slang it at the heads/ Cuz the bang was in the bucks, when the bounty wasn’t dead/ I be Django, drummin’ but the double-d’s are silent/ If I’m lookin’ out of place it’s cuz I’m on a new assignment/ Started from the island, now I’m here/ Not a giant or a pilot, but admire my revere As I try to disappear, call it ghostin’, I vanished/ Woke up south of border, on the coast, speakin’ Spanish/ [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3: Docktor Speckter] Ayo, fly me back to paradise, I got a time to beat/ ‘Round the World in 80 Days, Corona: gotta’ find my beach/ So I could clarify I’m ringer to these minor leagues/ Pave the way in gold, like I’m accustomed to the finer things in life/ Cold nights, no lies/ I been a drifter at times, I’ve laid my head on roadsides/ Like Apedemak, form of travel: as the crow flies/ While you ridin’ out the ebb and flow of rap at low tide/ I won’t try to go with gut without a conscience/ Dock Speck, gut ‘em like the Colorado Lochness/ Monster, how I’m droppin’ the apocalypse in droplets/ Just to keep it rainin’ down upon you when the god spits/ Oh my god, his shit the slickest in the litteral/ To think he’s only been a nightcrawler for a minute though/ I took a pitiful, idea, made it pivotal/ And did it for the Specktacle like pussy on a pedestal/

[Verse 1: Docktor Speckter] Yo it’s the slap.box.ologist, Dock Speck/ I keep my back hand stronger than an Afghan misogynist/ I’m slapstick comedy, or commentary/ Like the lack of said harmony for rats in Tom and Jerry/ Imma’ smack you if you wanna’ parry, because I Perry El/ And plus I parry well, assassin suit me very well/ I’ll slap you out your fairy tale, slappin’ you senseless/ But since this, rappin’ back in fashion more than ten B.I.G.’s/ I meant this, when I said it, give me credit/ You indebted to the Dock, because they sent me from the heavens/ To present you with the present, like it’s a gift/ To be remembered in the presence, of Peter Griff/ I drink a 5th of Beam to free the mind, so not to see the signs/ That they be seeding my serenity and peace of mind/ I leave the line drawn, crossed, and all that other shit/ Like catchin’ 3 to 9’s or swattin’ back the mothership/ [Chorus 2x: Docktor Speckter] Real talk, I may be Def, but I ain’t dumbing it/ Down, real shit, I made a mess so call the plumber, kid/ It’s trouble when, my tunnel vision see in doubles/ I can taste it in the air, the way you feelin’ out the struggle, this is . . . / [Verse 2: Docktor Speckter] Relentless, as if incentive wasn’t good enough/ I put ‘em up, because the sentence wasn’t hood enough/ I heard enough, to slap the sense back to surplus/ Cuz sure ‘nuff, sensibly I’m sensin’ that you served up/ A plate of revenge, homie, you don’t wanna verse us/ We play for the win, and then berate you with the verse, bruh/ What is it worth to ya, to keep your fuckin’ life/ You’re fuckin’ right, I’m huckin’ rights, to justify my fuckin’ rights/ Yikes, the way he land ‘em far from Lucky Strikes/ Just cuz he’s nice don’t mean he plan on payin’ double price/ He must’ve tried, a hundred times to be the son of mine/ But he ain’t no son of mine, I’m something of a sunder side/ So when the sun decide to shine, man your defenses/ It’s vengeance, beat you with your limbs that I dismembered/ So you can and will remember what the essence of the dope is/ I’m soulless, there’s no reflection in my smoke tricks, real talk/ [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3: Speight the Villain] Like, when I sit, you know it’s on a fatter wallet/ I battle college and saddle up on the rap, the raw shit/ So call me Cocaine Cowboy/ I got to know lames who showed shame, Bowdon/ I be Seminole to listenin’ to cow tongues/ Peter Pan, Indians askin’ how come?/ Cuz ya’ll like Seacrest bout to out son/ I be the Tesla harbor charger, cuz the Fouts done/ Ask son, Battle of the Bulge, like the Krauts won/ Doubt son, I be big dick in this rap shit/ When it starts hangin’, hold the mic with packed fists/ I’m a Christian Bale, Batarang to cat’s lips/ You got questions? I’d rather bang a bad bitch/ Network head out the window, cuz I’m maaaad, shit/ But not the rapper you heard/ Cuz I capture them words, when attackin’ them verbs, like.../ [Chorus 2x]

[Verse 1] Cop, like a warden, drop, like a stray shot/ Stopped short, so boy do not quit your day job/ Pray to God you’re not just talking to fake gods/ And, thank God I’m not just walkin’ through great odds/ Pay homage to the rock, like Islamics/ I’m a lot like a comet, way I’m crossin’ the same stars/ Train harder, cuz you playin’ the same part/ Aim sharper, not just playin’ the same cards/ No longer just a fruitless endeavor/ Root for whoever got the scoop on the set-up/ The loot getter, leather boot wearer/ When they criticize they tell me Dock, you too ghetto/ So who better to be rockin’ roots/ Other than the Docktor Too Clever, over Frosty Brute Records/ Yeah, you guessed it, audibly the next shit/ Sovereignty the king, so power gotta’ be the message/ [Chorus 2x] Got no city on my back, or no money on my mind/ I just wanna’ rap so you could wonder why/ I’m spittin’ money on the track, and you just mutter lines/ That’s why they come and give me daps, hundred at a time/ [Verse 2] Yo, it’s the D dot, R dot, D, and these are hard knocks/ We body beats, and leave the meaning to the argot/ Which is prolly hard for you to see from under our spot/ Which is prolly farther than your reach under the bar, Ach’/ We special ops, you mall cops, like Paul Blart/ We be the gift you give the lion cub, we all heart/ You peddle rocks, I shepherd flocks to holy grail/ I be the shit, you be the fly that crossed the only trial/ Stormy Gale, pussy older news than Tony Blaire/ Colder blues than Otis, only when I’m told to share/ I hold my share of the weight of the world to shoulder/ I’m waitin’ to see results, but I can’t wait ‘till wait is over/ I paid the toll sir, they told me wait in line/ I waited over 20 years, and didn’t make a dime/ But still I’ll try for 90 more before I seise to rhyme/ Because I be the mighty warrior, that bleed divine/ [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3] (Yeah, check it) They say the G.O.O.D. D.I.E., mostly over bullshit/ Hopefully I’m Suge Knight, Source Awarded culprit, exulted/ Whole entire empire putty, so I sculpted/ Cracks and gullies, son, it’s scummy so I skulked it/ You get insulted by the hate, it make me motivated/ Your self indulgence at a rate that isn’t safe no more, it’s/ So inflated, like egos that solely tainted/ I’m regal, you cronies heinous, the evil of goin’ famous/ (Famous to faintest, what fame is) Fame is the flame that lived to burn another day/ I came to win, you made amends and turned the other way/ I love the way you been makin’ demands in utter faith/ That I’m a man of my word, and my word a man to take/ Literally literal, it could be so simple if you/ Didn’t play the victim, you just let me be the criminal/ Old original ripple to rip a time in space/ Bells and whistles got me wishin’ I’d applied the breaks/ [Chorus 2x]

[Verse 1] We keep the track steady rollin’, like a drum clip/ Son’bitch back in action, up and at ‘em, bump this/ Automatic autocrat that taught ‘em how to run shit/ But got about the right amount of Hop to get ‘em jumped in/ No punch-in’s, my punchlines in one wind/ Like lunchtime on front-lines, we dug in/ We from the side of tracks that disbelieve in judgement/ But once we got a side to back, it’s liberty or justice/ That’s just it, life a gamble so we cock dice/ It’s tough shit, you gotta scramble more than cock fight/ So Hoplite, motherfucker, keep your flock tight/ Cuz plenty brothers ain’t deserve it, but they got life/ It’s not right, ‘lot like the phalanx with the missing shield/ It’s unforgiving as the winter winds of Killah Hill/ It’s really real, the system is willy nil’/ The rhythm is sittin’ still, so I’m fixin’ to get my fill, now/ [Chorus] Yeah, just call him citizen soldier, the closer/ Quote unquote the overcoat of the code of the culprit/ I don’t suppose that, we could revoke the encroachment/ Moment’s notice, as we breakin’ the mold with explosives/ You in the Danger Zone and pay no mind/ I came alone, you brought the gang along to stabilize/ You pay the price of the wager to try to save a life/ Cradle 2 the Grave, I’m like - debating how to face the light/ [Verse 2] We cover ground at mach 10, we flocked in/ Then hung around, to hunker down, you boxed in/ We gon’ surround and surmount an account of plot twist/ Caution where you walk, cuz shit be droppin’ more than park bench/ The godsend, that dropped in to drop gems/ Without the continence to pit it with a consequence/ Consequently, I’m quittin’ it cuz of common sense/ Constantly connecting cause-effect, creating consonance/ It’s constant, the way the struggle seem to never fail/ Redundant because the train was gonna’ be derailed/ I see the grail, to reach it we gotta’ beat a trail/ The key to sale be to believe it’s not so we prevail/ We sleeper cell, undercover, so we lead each other/ We keep it real, one love, as if we bleed for brother/ Keep it gutter, keep it gully to the fuckin’ gurney/ Walking Dead, kicked the bucket, but it didn’t turn me/ [Chorus] [Verse 3] These loose lips give two shit’s ‘bout who’s hit/ Willy Foster Falling Down without the loose ends/ We kill ‘em off without accounting for the root’s stem/ But who’s accounting for the Balphegor that do sin/ The crew kin, recruitin’ the new Grim/ Reaper plottin’ to eradicate your movement/ For my amusement, rudiment above the clouds/ Reveal the truth, and be the mutant with the subtle mouth/ Mutiny without a doubt, I feel invited/ Started from the island, now we here to be the guidance/ I guide ‘em in like tidal wind that bare the likeness/ Of Poseidon with the trident, tryna’ trial with the trifeness/ I tried this: not to mingle with the culture-cypher/ Only thing I learned: the culture be the sole provider/ Whole entire, game be like a dope supplier/ Socializin’ with the sort of guys who wore The Wire/ [Chorus]

[Verse] Uh, too many shots for me to shake it off/ I think I’m drownin’ God, I need a Noah’s Ark/ Some sort of savior, to give me the whole array of the spot/ So I could pick it up, where the fuck I left off/ I leapt off of the edge, on some cause and effect/ Took the hint, and then I caught the motherfuckin’ wreck/ Dock Speckter, the key to the cross-section/ I’m eager to drop pressure like freezing to hot weather/ Depending upon, whether or not they been eggin’ him on, I/ Make it known, your bitch is aching to bone/ I’m takin’ her home from the show, on the road less traveled/ Stormed your castle to prove to you, I’m the best at it/ Yeah, cuz you won’t learn if I don’t demonstrate/ You feather and I’m heavyweight, I got to differentiate the truth/ Between this ill shit that I generate/ While you be tryna’ imitate the image that I emanate to you/ You should appreciate the little things/ This is what it takes for one to roll the dice and play the game/ True, there is no limit to the greater gain/ So take your place in line and lose ‘em through the straightaway/ Make or break, cutthroat, braver way to say the same/ Or wave away your right to save the flavor for a rainy day/ Hey, I’m on some Training Day Alonzo Harris/ I caught the merit, to bury you while I was runnin’ errands/ So stop starin’ me, bearin’ my cross, carin’/ Apparently not near enough, so now we squarin’ up/ Master of my ceremony, rise to the occasion/ I’m in, matrimony with the pad and the pen/ So when, these karaoke rappers are makin’ an ode to the whackness/ I’m Hulk-Smashin’ ‘em, takin’ a crack for the win/ This is for the one who’s livin’ to die by the sword/ And this is for the one that’s gettin’ in right with the Lord/ You all beneath me, I’m troughin’ where ya’ll be peakin’/ I’m prolly the only reason they don’t give you the right to record/ When I perform on the mic, I’m sorta’ liable to strike with the raw/ Cuz I be knowin’ you liked what you saw/ Yuh, the brightest star can’t match the shine I’m on/ And you can’t take the wheel, cuz I’m the driver, you the ride-along/ I’m ridin’ on spinners, it’s been a minute/ Since Speckter was whippin’ in it, doin’ business with your men and women/ Yeah, I’m so indifferent to your spittin’ image/ That I don’t consider it bitten, until I’m gettin’ stitches/ Huh, I try to distance myself from the beef/ Unless, that is, I got a skillet within arm’s reach/ Concrete Jungle, I’m shovelin’ through the rubble/ I’m roughin’ it through the struggle, but won’t buckle, I’m beyond defeat/ So it be best for you to walk away/ I’m on the island, General Zaroff when I stalk the prey/ So stop fakin’ as if it was not dangerous/ If you don’t got game, ain’t no shame in just not playing it/ Hold up, wait a minute, get it, got it, good/ If you don’t consider me the shit by now, you prolly should/ I’m shittin’ on these Hollywood, rappers actin prodigal/ The lot of ‘em, while you was payin’ out of pocket/ For a product that was cut, call it maybe only kinda’ dope/ Optical illusion rap, call that shit kaleidoscope/ Realest shit I ever wrote, message in a bottle/ Sayin’ that I don’t apologize for bettin’ on bravado/ I’m a rebel desperado, motto be to never follow/ Lead into tomorrow and you’re bound to reach your El Dorado/ See D.R.D we be mano a mano/ We got them combos like we Liu Kang on some Mortal Kombat/ We got each other’s backs, and on some Magna Cum Laude/ Face down, hoodies up, drownin’ snitches underwater/ So don’t you even be thinkin’ of tryna’ stop us/ It’s easy to get departed from this life that you been tryna’ live/ We keep the heater on the target, and our finger in your pocket/ Plus we speakin’ through the hearts of the kids/ We sharp witted, definitely def up in it/ You just don’t get it, we get it because we in it to win it/