Mega Live (That's the Joint)

My sound echoes, when mix tapes escape from the metro-
-politan I rock suburban, plus Somalian
No dallyin around I keep it planted to the ground
Rewrite the songs, that makes the whole world go 'round
Some niggaz ain’t stable, remind me of Kain and Abel
Tried to stab me in the back for the mic or the tables
Think they whole life, depends on the snake record label
You could die tryin, that’s why I’m workin up my cables
Get this jump start; I’m like Noah, and his ark
I be that spark, that leads my people, out the dark
Only do art, keep it urban contemporary
Be that necessary, type of weight that’s hard to carry
I’m Dug Infinitely known and I’ve potentianately shown potential
When I invade your rest or residential
Rooftop or terrace, make sure my twelve inches scarest
Economics, how we get paid, from ebonics
«Live. live. live.""Mega live!""Yeah that’s the joint»
It’s all live
«Live. live. live.""Mega-mega live!""Yeah that’s the joint»
We keep it live
«Live. live. live.""Mega live!""Yeah that’s the joint»
It’s all live
«Live. live. live.""Mega-mega-mega-mega live!»
Check it — «Yeah that’s the joint»
Yo, it’s elementary that every century (what)
MC’s manifest potential and ability
to let loose syllables, move individuals
Make 'em see vacancies or voids in the culture
It’s ironic — I was born with the sonics
to rock plate tectonics built like a masonic
bricklayer, with a compass and a square
In the middle of my cypher I be right on center
So parasites don’t enter, because it’s winter
You need heat — plus you got the cold feet
Yes know, I’m mysterious, yo, take it serious
No need to be curious, No I.D., purely it’s
the lifelike often as real as it could be thus
come and follow us on a exodus. dus. dus. dus.
We gotta keep it live
My peoples gather 'round the campfire
Create a circle for desire of divine cypher, the rhyme citers
commence to paint a picture like muslims in solemn scriptures
And appear seven years in Zaire, as holy figures
Your triggers, don’t amuse me Step into my circle and your body gettin bruised see
They choose me Now go and warn your enterprise, I’m energized
to put my guise on yo’inner spies, cause we despise
networks that get work on the amateur
I damage ya and any nigga wanna stand witcha
Mystique freak Technics like I’m Primo
Wherever we go, keep it tight like Gambinos
I Chino, and XL/exhale in casinos
This Fox Brown like Nino, with slang like pediquo
What. («come on. come on»)