Of course you know what a fuse is...
It's a long piece of cord impregnated with gun powder
When you strike a match and light it
It burns, fitfully, sputteringly to it's end
At which there is, a little surprise

Krypton, short suit MCs you'll be ripped on
You fell off and it's my lyric sheet you just slipped on
Get gone, spit on mic's made in Hong Kong
Rock on, sing songs, were mightier than King Kong
A donkey, you think you want me or want this
Want some, hold your reputation for ransom
With these here, handsomely crafted tactics
To break a snake and see like a cheap profilactic
Galactic, space now, yeah that grabs attention
Crackheads nodded like a pest can't even mention
Right a pest traps gas tracks in sections
Kid steps this, he needs witness protection

Trying to see while I
Can you see it?
I'll be here
Trying to see while I
If you see it
I'll be here

It was the junkyard crooked letter C-I-entific
Duck us, the ruckus I'll bring stings your eardrum
Hear one, lalala loose, find me fearsome
Opposing troops on my home front shall be gone
Testing the eight-hundred, eighteenth batallion
Shall I go on, cruise run like rebels
Enola Gay rhymes kicked the notch up a level
In intesity, send back attacks that you sent to me
Blow up your spot with grenades that were meant for me
MP3 versus R33 MCs
Swiss cheese your gear putting shrapnel in the breeze
We're lead MCs with enemy companies
With my hand full of lyrics talking 'bout you want these?
Please, don't even speak the name of channels
And low gadget mic shit, put it down like pens
For my friends and my fam
Let them dodge it around
This mic shot through the back of an MCs hand
With