Styles Of Beyond: Playing with fire

(feat. Apathy, Celph Titled)[Verse 1: Tak]Stand back, put the picture my frameThe handcraft of a master, the flicker, the flameThat sell three madman Megadef LPMonster mash, prop for what? From S.O.B.Shout to Honeycomb...what would I be without wax?Just another empty battery shell in the packString on the puppet, laughin', claimin' I'm all of thatWhen I know in fact, everything you claim is all crap[Verse 2: Ryu]Yo, got the fuse lit, keepin' it movin', soFreakin' abusive, people are pukin', soSick of the music, suckin' the fumes inSo don't get it confused, I'm not you, stupidHundred-proof booze in the back, all tipsyBring two clips, I'm clappin' all sixtySwing through quick and bust if one's emptyYour chances of leavin' the club: fifty/fifty[Verse 3: Apathy]Wanna fuck around with Hell's recruits?I'll stomp Satan in his face 'till it melts my bootsI'll use the sun for my throne, universe as my homeAnd your skull as a crown to adorn my domeWatch porn with your girl, slip a mickey in her Beck'sPut a hickey on her neck, then the titties I caressUnder match of ??? set's, I'm the one the chickies sweatMake 'em suck it 'till their jaw's fucked up like 50 Cent'sMost of you faggots stay postin' that jacked shitBut when we retaliate, it's never some rap shitSwing on your mandible and bring out mechanicalDevices that splices flesh from the intangibleI spark fire like electrical shocksAnd ready the glocks, to clash with Connecticut copsWho on some Brad Pitt shit, so you better go watchThe movie Seven, 'cause you'll find your wife's head in a box[Verse 4: Tak]Rush you bustas, get touched with nunchucksYou tough tough, askin' to really get fucked upWho cares what you been through? I'm goin' against you, soSharpen your skills while I sharpen my GinsuGas and ashes, and medical kits, but seeThat's what happens when chemicals mixThe birth of a strange creature, umbilical splitBut for now, the main feature, you said it was sick[Verse 5: Celph Titled]The word on the streets is that I'm hellbound, 'cause I bully ChristiansBut I stay up in the armory, developin' pulley systemsFor launchin' grenades strategically, onstage with heaters illegallyGot the sound man shook at my vocal frequencyBack at the crib, bitch better strap on a bib'Cause when I'm bustin' off, it's drippin' off the tip of her chinChickens and hens, you know I keep 'em bendin' over for meWith my chef hat, stuffin' poultry on the upholsteryCelph Titled's known as a gangsta to someI got the powers of the godz, acclimated to oneAll these young cats with glocks, tryin' to clear the floorI'm old school, when I'm pullin' out my Fearless FourHear the sound of the clap? Bury your face'Cause the mag that I pack needs a carryin' caseI'm not from the Aryan race, but I'll still persecute youRide around in the trunk with a little hole to shoot through[Verse 6: Ryu]I'm "Word Perfect," back in the circuitBeen...top ten since you were snatchin' pursesGolf club thug, a nickel and dime hustlerAll them mob flicks are makin' you rhyme tougherWhen the nine clicks, you freezeTwo sick emcees, get cool quick when I'm shootin' the breezeWho's this? Ryu and Tak, with Ap and CelphSpittin' heat 'till the plastic melt, watch it[Outro: Tak]Claim you wanna stay, but you have to goGrab the gun powder, blast the calicoTime to saddle up, this ain't a talent showYou wanna battle what? Bullets that travel slow[Outro 2: Ryu]Talk, but keep steppin'Discrete, false perceptionTalk, but keep steppin'Spark with heat weapons