8 Count - Dagha, Insight

One, two, three, four

What the hell did we come here for?

Put your hands to the sky and stomp the floor

This is on the 8 count y’all need to give me more

Just like five, six, seven, eight

This type of joint no need for a break

Real heads gotta know cause those who don’t be the fake

No splice and dice I gets nice on one take

I gets nice on one take…

I gets nice on one take…

Cerebral matter I shatter

Yadda yadda with data, I’m badder

This black cat will cross under your ladder

And rapture the hereinafter

My energy slap’s ya

Even with a mind like Minolta you can’t capture

I freeze frames like ice rain with nice range

Leave mics stained / despite change I write

Strange enough to relay / D-A with the DJ

I be a superhighway, web net and freeway

Delay, pause for the cause

Greater than Santa Claus fuck some man-made laws

The choice is yours

My vision, decision, precision incision

Regardless of traditions and such

I keep my foot on the gas, steady shifting the clutch

RPM’s make cylinders bust

Wet behind the ears cause you’re still in the crust

Your fillings will rust

Still travelling upstream for that ultimate rush

Get on the bus like…

One, two, three, four

What the hell did we come here for?

Put your hands to the sky and stomp the floor

This is on the 8 count y’all need to give me more

Just like five, six, seven, eight

This type of joint no need for a break

Real heads gotta know cause those who don’t be the fake

No splice and dice I gets nice on one take

I gets nice on one take…

I gets nice on one take…

Spit flames like blowtorch

Burn study emcees for to dust and ashes

The clutch I’m grabbing

Shifting at 186,000 miles per second — the speed of light

Through these cold days and heated nights…

Got a hot track, gotta beat it right

So I step up, switch that neck up

Give respect up, Come selectah!

Illustrious D the resurrector

Breathing life like a conscious fetus going full term in the womb

Emerge with the Boom Bap

Mic tap, b-boying… and putting graph on the map

DJ’ing the scratch and breakbeats

Create sheets with straight heat

Blacker than the core of the sun radiate on your crown

Get down there’s no alarm warning or forecast

No systems of emergency broadcast

The God smash propaganda and slander

The average man can’t understand-a

Of wreck, I’m the commander…

Stand up!

One, two, three, four

What the hell did we come here for?

Put your hands to the sky and stomp the floor

This is on the 8 count y’all need to give me more

Just like five, six, seven, eight

This type of joint no need for a break

Real heads gotta know cause those who don’t be the fake

No splice and dice I gets nice on one take

I gets nice on one take…

I gets nice on one take…

Start the countdown, clowns are pound in surround sound

Sight’s phrases turn the stage into ground round

Crowd speechless

Power released now increases

Devour on beaches, buildings, and bridges and founded pieces

My thesis could move crowds

Yanking payments with pages

The mazes of phrases are ageless equations

As I drop style, chop bones in the rock pile

Enemies erased are placed In a locked file

Souls that I hold in a mold made of gold

The wind blows, stones are causing a pitfall

Volcanic ashes around will surround towns

Many pounds of clowns are found in the sizznound

Opposition will drown, more bodies are rinsed now

Soundwaves cave and escape to high ground

Riddles ripple through your cubicle crushing your compound

So your better calm down and ring the alarm now

One, two, three, four

What the hell did we come here for?

Put your hands to the sky and stomp the floor

This is on the 8 count y’all need to give me more

Just like five, six, seven, eight

This type of joint no need for a break

Real heads gotta know cause those who don’t be the fake

No splice and dice I gets nice on one take

I gets nice on one take…

I gets nice on one take…