Untouchables

[John Cena] The untouchable cat whose style is right I can be mistaken for the smooth and silent type My violence bites tight like it was vampire's teeth I'm hammerin chief, opponents with beef, you're put to sleep My radical brain, will run your terrain, I'm comin again It's simple and plain, you're hurtin, there's no numbin the pain Warpin your frame to convex with ill techs Still flex, kill specs on cassette decks Mic checks, and tight reps, collect all live bets We'll see how bright the lights get The illest attack, I fight with artillery Jack And physically smack them verbally humble You stumble and fumble, so I gain posession Music moves in cycles, natural progression Thugonomics lesson is taught when records are bought Analyzed for lies and fillers, nowadays Gorillas make scrilla if the market's correct All you need is a hook, and a hand to collect Lack cred but respect MC's before me Don't blast the back heat but the streets, can't ignore me Hands nice, I rock your wigpiece, leave your hard rep soft Just like when Miami left the Big East.. [Hook *scratched*] Bust that Y'all know my steez, yo we raisin the bar Assassinate the mainstream Y'all know my steez, Trademark and John Cena Assassinate the mainstream Y'all know my steez, yo we raisin the bar Assassinate the mainstream Y'all know my steez, Trademark and John Cena Assassinate the mainstream [Trademark] I calculate between the hi-hat, the bassline The slideback, the scene decides that, Trademark Designed raps through divine contact The synpase to climb a syntax error/era, define clever We find Trademark's photo ID below the letters Your rhymes are general played, minimal blank Your eyes was blinded by the signs of federal banks You lost your focus of function 'Member back when MC's used to spit and say (shit) that meant somethin The mainstream remained clean Then the corporate industry became the same dream And I leaned back below the scene Mappin out the future warfare schemes To sweep through the streets lethal, to meet you Delete too, editorial restrictions Cause labels need candy-ass rappers so the populars can listen Not the caste system The last talented cats that lost they status Real raps end up gratis tracks on mixtapes that never sell Cause executives and marketing schemes Designed rims, hoes and music, and bed in jail I know the veterans can tell, I see through the image Mainstream acts is timid I want hard beats, basslines, and lyrics that's vivid A voice within it, tellin me real rap is comin back and boy it's livid I want it, I breathe it, I live it I cornered the scene and I bring destruction You ain't worth your weight, never mind the cost of post-production Introduction of Trademark, the poet laureate Through the duction of reason Rhyme forever, but born out the 7 iller {?} to beat in [Hook] - repeat to fade