No Way

[Hook:Cecil Otter] We got cracks in our armor, got cracks in the ceiling And this axe that we're wielding Will react when we're feeling that Crack, attack, attack, and we're on on you like like a Mack Truck Your honor, we are that fucking filthy [Verse 1: Sims] It's 2000 and self destruct and everybody's yelling that shit is all fucked Yuck, I never liked the construct of that square wheel, like "money ain't real" Wait, but that ain't real. Oh, now I get it We could take it all and split it, give it to the village Doomtree villains out for the killing, no kidding Good man but I went a bit bitter when they took a little bit of the dinner off my plate High stakes, okay, Ill play, but it ain't your game And it ain't your rules and it ain't your world, and I brought my crew We some dirty lip fuck your rules living ugly goons It's no kings, no way, You're so vain, you probably think it's about you Well it is and it ain't, and it ain't but it is I go so fucking nasty no restraint Well I get props and I play it off, I see them hot and I fade them all Hello world it's L.O.P. B.T.Z., keep your ring Move out of my way, let me do my thing Let me do my thing, I'mma do my thing [Verse 2: Mike Mictlan] Friction lock rivet Goonish as all fuck, prudent to all stunts Proving the laws of logarithm like the wag of a dog's tail Bark back, woof! Light the rag on your cocktail SPart that, champ on that slang chop Chump on that chomp rap, probably a stomp sack Man, give me my prop back Hold your tooth to my non dap, I ain't no Diddy boy That Beni know we go scrimp dance Dougie, don't stop that! Senor Frreal Z three R zero None other, who's cooler, hula-hooping through bank zeroes Hewlett packing, loogie yacking on Don Hero's Bomb appearance, nights in Paris, raw dogging cross limos Toss demos, snot rockets blow up the sub-labels Long tables, calling shots on a crowd potato The slang mongrel with fanged tonsils We slay goblins gangly gang violent Wrangling fake monsters [Hook] [Verse 3: P.O.S.] What's up? No kings, no love for your made up things In the paint but it ain't no game on the wall with a little complaint Leave that stain, weave through cities dodging rain No thing but an open door, it's yours No lie but you've got to get dirty man fix your pride We some preach them real, reach them, steal them from low ideals type dudes With a stepped up set of skills and an ick style so kill that wills update daily No frills or pilled up babies No posture phony just rock solid un-fuck-with-able dropped knowledge No love for the bull horns give them Throns get them in, swarm, let me make friends with a storm Buddy get up close to the war Insides out, no love for the boring Naw, bored, and I bet the hearts off beating Under hardwood flooring, poor man's Poe [Hook]