Ryu and Tak, Demigodz Green Lantern, Scoop DeVille This kid is only seventeen, man He's about to be a problem So let's get right to it and groove Ain
(feat. Celldweller) Get ready Get ready, get set Get ready, get set, let's roll Ha, get ready, get set, let's roll Road warrior in a bit of petrol
(feat. Mike Shinoda) It's the real authentic Leave ya'll dented Forget what ya heard If I said it, I meant it Did it for real While ya'll pretended
the sound hit ya Snap it's already ya style picture (Lot electrical) [Chorus] [Tak:] Who the hell wear splittin' the belly up on a selfish Shinnin' in your style
boogie flicks Far beyond space so niggaz say your grace It's a True Lie that I bring drama like Schwarzeneggar When a baby, I had other babies in labor
I-395 You just run into a bunch of dead end streets Niggas with wifebeaters and bare feet That's right, I'm talking straight goon style Go beyond that
Boy your boy sound choked with the next man's style Between your teeth tongue and throat like Got to wash your mouth out with soap My penstroke, is leavin' other
neck Throw the other black Jimmy to ya chest If you budge, you get stretched, nothing more, nothing less Pay respect, I'm a element of Homicide Housing In other
mascara We operate within this artificial opera I bring hip hop terror like the Fuhrer, the Ace Ventura into the horror Laboratory laborer, venture beyond the border I'll structure a style
loud Start banging on my door to turn it down My response to my mother when she starts knockin Is come on mum I'm just rockin (rockin) (ready rock c) This style
You don't know now but you gon' find out! i don't think that im'a sleep tonight my name is Aceyalone keep it tight them other fools just cant freak
samples from the rust Penetrate the crust then trust no living Driven by the sonic, language passion Your ashes spark the flashes, of the neon From beyond
shit is what it feel like I will be displayin', lyrical styles, I'm saying Lyrical styles from the miracle child Want a pile of ill styles wildin' on
type shit is what it feel like I will be displayin' lyrical styles I'm saying Lyrical styles from the miracle child Want a pile of ill styles wildin'
, we be runnin' it With the hatchet on the back While other bitches suckin' sour tits for air time and similac We say fuck that, matter of fact You tainted our style
people preferrin' me And spectatin' like a tourist, 'cause you never Saw this style of rap kickin' like Chuck Norris But this ain't Kung-Fu, no I just brung you A style
get it done, I'll take care of the facts Your muddled thoughts they don't mean too much to me There she stands, wheat in hand, the virgin she got style