From the top, from the top
From the top, from the top
From the top, from the top
From the top, from the top
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up! 
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Im about to...
Wasnt that fun? Lets try something else
Forty-five caliber killer, but out of the Phila-
-dela thriller show you brothers how you not a guerilla
Smooth talkin, fully automatic weapon concealer
Taste thriller, great fillers, hit em with the bounce filler
Filthy stinkin, standin on solid ground and still be sinkin
Submergin in the Parks and still be Linkin
Pluck beef when it starts, but fuck your thinkin
Its not a mirage
I rip the motherfuckin track up from out the garage
Where Im hip to the duck, but its hard to dodge
In the back of that spine where my darts is lodged
Thought flippin straight up, rippin apart your squad
X-Ecutioner style, that cuts and blends
Like a syringe, we bangin you in each of your limbs
See me comin through your party hard, without no bodyguard
Smokin somethin, stompin on each of your Timbs
Im the B to the L, the A, the C-King 
And when it comes to plannin the Thought, keep thinkin that
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!