This could be a hip-hop anthem
I hold the microphone for ransom, fire at random
As the crowds gather, clear the stage for the rapper
Don't speak, don't interrupt, keep the noise down, wait up
Blade, a vital ingredient for rhyme cookery
Thing cut the record, Mark B completes the recipe
A death grip making sure the microphone never slips
Soon as it approaches the lips
I'm like a terrorist taking the land by force
No regrets when we strike with the power blows
If I was a prophet I'd be Moses
Turning competition into snakes and I'm ferocious
Complicated rhythm writer, foe annihilator
Slayer of imitators, the terminator
Animal voice precision, breathing oxygen
Rap's my religion, combine it with nitrogen
And hydrogen forming nitro-glycerine
The effect devastating 'cause we ain't playing
From back in the days of troglodytes we held mics
Only to terrorise, look in the red of my eyes
And what you see is the reflection of the vampire rhymer
We're in it for life, you're a part timer
All systems activate when they aggravate
Run for cover 'cause I'm dropping rhyme grenades
Production is the backbone, cuts are the stone

Where ever there's pioneers there's bound to be clones
Copycats and rats and that's that
Invasion of the rap snatchers, watch your backs
Records we released back in the days are now artefacts
Your tracks tickle while ours attack
Non-stoppable bombing, we're coming, sirens are going off
At night time, warnings of the attack, guard yourself
Semi-automatic rap styles attack the planet
Competition's left for dead, you understand it
I broke the mould when I held the mic
For the very first time plus I killed the hype
Leaving scraps for vultures, hyenas and scavengers
We are the predators preying on competitors
We came, we witnessed, we conquered
Left your city in ruins and all without a sponsor
Walls covered with graffiti, tags everywhere
Hip-hop is in the air and our styles never compare
And of course we're bad as ever, rugged and clever