Explosiaaan! - The Procussions

Yo, microphone check one two who is this

Who’s crew’s relentless true few will witness

You through the fences new school invented new rules

We bent them bruised tooled and sent them

Fooled doing the who’s who dance with a pool que

Breaking my jewels to fake romance with a news crew

All I hear is loose stool, cool I’ll reinvent them

Snub em stuff em full of wool and pull a Jim Henson

I got no malice intent I’m like the Clipse camping

More like Chris Hansen at your phallic attempts to get these kids dancing

But I don’t Datelines I keep them timeless

Lead them through the grape vine

Feed them to the wine press

You know it takes time rhyming for the payoff

1999 and can’t seem to find a day off

Might be hard to find in a scene full of Adolfs

Teens with their hands up seen with their brains off

Give me the beat

I’m awful lonely rockin A Capella’s put me to sleep

Leave me a drum machine I need the meter reachin the peak

Speaker to leak a sermon, turn it up and learn with your feet

And do that Sherman Hemsley, George Jefferson for the geeks

They yell Attention, why these other rappers taking a seat?

I’m off my rocker like I’m Mel Gibson after the beep

Delete… delete…

Never mind that slight stutter I speak in broken English

Bout a scholarship short a degree

Yeah, I ain’t finished

But I’m well versed, and this verse well inside the curriculum

Of Melle Mel, Mos Def, Eminem, Rakim and them

That… penetrates adamantium body types

You Rony Seikaly, old flames death by water fight

Innocent criminal profile identical

Your child expendable, no trial for him

Now when the revolution strikes midnight

It’s gonna hit em' when we take to the streets

With black hoodies and bags of Skittles

«EXPLOSIAAAN!»

Haggler spitting what he sell on the crowd

Could Gallagher make a hit without a melon around

Felon and proud pelican fly come on pelican

Now how that sound flamingo

Gringo like a smile leaving

My style beating any rap cliché leaving knots macramé

Wait wasn’t that a rap cliché

Dropping raps like that call him cast aways

For those who lack will-son back away

You must be looking for that faster way

20 grand in your hand, planning on giving them cash for play

20 spins for the win, but wait… what's your name again?

A dime a dozen they say, more like a dollar now

Every dog has a day, but where’s your collar now

Ya’ll getting carried away, why even bother now

Childs play, ya’ll stay put I’m calling your father now

«EXPLOSIAAAN!»