Papyrus Prophecies Almighty (Group)

[INTRO: Sample of overlapping bars]
Yeah
Staten Island! Not done!
New York City park ill!
Good luck, kid! [?]
Beats! Yeah!
Hip hop!
Yo!
Killer bees gonna swarm, killer armed thugs! [?]
Killah Priest [?]!
'Sup killer bees!
Gold teeth! That's real talk, my nigga, yo!

[Verse 1: M-Eighty]
I started off 'cited, rhyme radic and it's evident
Hip hop ain't going nowhere while the Almighty is present
A nickel for your thoughts, 100,000 for these facets
All my comrades in the force
Strictly moving about your business
Never a question, fuck the tension, mind your ps and qs
Some used to dropping dimes {​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​We used to dropping jewels}​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
Some used to copping pleas {​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​We issue no excuse}​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
Cock back aim and squeeze let loose like what it do?
Now who you? Killa Beez swarm, guess who back home
With the gold chain military brandishing arms
Like word is bong
Can-I-Bus, what up? Let's get it on
Standing in the middle of the King of the Dot
Like fuck 'em all, we the greatest
Track record proven through song
What's beef? Medium well filet mignon
With a side of crock fried rice and sweet cream corn
They u'ed-a puttin' out a fucking album out trying to challenge the Gods
Chopping your swords