1.B-Boy Document '99 (Featuring Mos Def and Mad Skillz)
Lyricist：Brad Baker, Milo Berger, Donnie Lewis, Eric Meltzer, Lance
Quinn, Dante T Smith, Joseph T Joe Thomas
Yeah, uhh
What it look like？ Mad Skillz
Uhh, Mr. Eon
(The Mighty Mos Def)
The Mighty Mos
(The E.C. Rawkus connection)
Coast to coast
(From '88 to '99)
What？ What？ What？ What？
It's on fire tonight, everything on my side is lookin' alright
It's high power original, B-boy traditional
Raw bass material, huh, when individual
True brand imperial you're hearin' on your stereo
Transcribe the live, the Mos Def initial
Sit back, and listen, you ain't in no position
To deal with my conditional mentally and physical
Strength is indivisible, crews be comin' pitiful
Speech be sound typical, downfall habitual
Ock, I'm not feelin' you, don't know what your label tellin' you
Or what magic beans they sellin' you
I can flow, you can't though
Example, of a cat who just a modern day Sambo
(Yeah)
Who be bitchin' out to A＆R demands so
You can collect your little petty cash advance hoe
You knock-kneed and sloppy, but not me
I'm I N D E P E N D E N T
Yo, it was a jam at the center, and the party was shakin'
And the poppers was poppin', and the breakers was breakin'
And it won't be long 'til everybody know that
B-boys rock the document the way
Yo, yo, you on the injured, I'm hot to death
I'm foul, plus I'm winnin', you think I shot the ref？
Rock a vest if you out of turn speakin'
'Cause I'm right there like nightmares, I catch MCs while they
sleepin'
I'm back these rap cats is wildin'
Got 'em in the studio poppin' valiums, remasterin' they album
I'm about to re-up and restructure the case
You stuck, you about to get rearranged and replaced
I got plans for this rap game, put your head in the toilet and
look son
If you think my shit done changed
My shit is, out of your range, rip you out of your frame
Cop your tape, and the next day, copped an exchange
If you ain't, rockin' raw, what you rockin' for？
Without heat, y'all MCs, ain't hot no more
So for you lame cats tryin' to put your hit out
Try rockin' back and forth it might be easier to get your shit
out
It was a jam at the center, and the party was shakin'
And the poppers was poppin', and the breakers was breakin'
And it won't be long 'til everybody know that
B-boys rock the document the way
I'm Jedi Master, Mase Windu, what you been through
Keep MCs heads wrapped like Erykah Badu
Hip-Hop's Cleon Jones, when Eon Jones
Wackest MCs, we pee on those
No need to impede The High and Mighty Mystique
That shit would be as ignorant as Jimmy the Greek
Claimin' they Godzilla's when they really Godzooki
Got a mill' from Charlie Brown, when I kidnapped Snoopy
Eon, sale or performance, in any ordinance
Rhyme menace, that burst your verbal nuisance
In accordance, with all the laws from the cordless
Star buck coming through, leavin' any pimp whore less
Stereo stompin' defeatin' me is like
Latrell chokin' up John Thompson
Charles Bronson had a death wish for this next to left shit
Leavin' all these hot air MCs breathless
It was a jam at the center, and the party was shakin'
And the poppers was poppin', and the breakers was breakin'
And it won't be long 'til everybody know that
B-boys rock the document
I said, B-boys rock the document the way
B-boys document
B-boys document
B-boys document
B-boys document
B-boys document
B-boys document
2.The Last Hit (Featuring Eminem)
Lyricist：Milo Berger, Marshall Iii Mathers, Eric Meltzer
Slim Shady, that's me
Iron Mic Trilogy, back with the flyest material
Shady, that's me
Iron Mic Trilogy, back with the funky beats
Packing the third eye rush you it's cyclops
They trade in their high tops for night sized white rocks
Words in my right, they pass my left ear
Bear this grenade, you got stunned like virgins
Who that cat splurgin' instead of rehearsin'？
Tough guys, DJ Travi, your high rise
Lookin' more like Ronald then the fuckin' fry guys
Go on uptown, fuckin' senoritas
In Taco Bell, screamin', â½Vivas Gorditasâ
Bring all your dogs, I give 'em rabies
They never had a chance, I might chew up all their babies
Pope John Paul, the second, brain like Satan
Have your vegan girlfriend cookin' up bacon
I'm obituite with that shit that you hit
Slow my spliff with ya 'cause mine to pick wit her
My nine is limpin' ya, six deep when I spray rounds
Hit you with 12 shots in mid air an' four more on the way down
This eight straight strays to a kid's hair on the playground
You lay down on a stretcher, don't get carried away now
No pun intended, snapped out of your whip
An' leave it unattended before I whip out this gun an' end it
Unless you want it dented with bullet holes any minute
'Cause I can leave your Infinite full of those
Even if someone's in it
Corner o' the market, I got her tied up in a chair an' gag
Bitches get smacked an' grabbed by the hair an' dragged
Like cave-women, while I'm grave diggin' with Marilyn Mans
If you got a bowl of hash, better cash it
Dollar signs flashin', I'ma take ya last hit
An' if you're spittin' whack shit on the microphone
I'ma snatch it outta your hand, so fast I'ma detach it
So if you got a bowl of hash, better cash it
Dollar signs flashin', I'ma take ya' last hit
I'm flabbergasted, off two tabs of acid
Threw my baby's mother in a hatch-back an' latched it
Yo, Eon's whack now, how you dig that？
Couldn't get on my record if you were straight rap
Let's go back online an' jerk off on your modem
I got stupid mucus from these loose lips
My loose leaf leave your whole persona weak
To the point that you stand up on your feet, best retreat
Let's go back in time an' steal my whole seed
The quickenin', did a briss at the crispenin'
I'm exercisin' to upliftin' the foot stage
This thing's the nicest, I keep tellin' you
What the fuck this guy on the corner been sellin' you？
I'm e-mailin' you, at the wrong website
Misspellin' you, break you an' put the fear of Hell in you
Escape above you, stuff the nurse in a purse
Disperse, like I added too many words in a verse
Slim Shady, a perverted version of birth
Drivin' off, leaving the murdered virgin at church
The first person who searchin' the earth for the motherfucker
That pulled the plug when they shoulda alerted the surgeon first
You don't curse an' hit with your own words
Leave me alone, bitch, I get on my own nerves
An' if I don't got two balls an' a middle finger to throw up
Then I'm takin' off both shoes an' stickin' each middle toe up
If y'all got a bowl of hash, better cash it
Dollar signs flashin', I'ma take ya last hit
An' if you're spittin' whack shit on the microphone
I'ma snatch it outta your hand, so fast I'ma detach it
So if you got a bowl of hash, you better cash it
Dollar signs flashin', I'ma take ya last hit
I'm flabbergasted, off two tabs of acid
Threw my baby's mother in a hatch-back an' latched it
Any disease out there, I'm willin' to catch it
Slim Shady, all praises to the High an' Mighty
Slim Shady, naughty rotten rhymer
Mr. Eon, illest rhyme dropper
Slim Shady, naughty rotten rhymer
Mr. Eon, illest rhyme dropper
Slim Shady, naughty rotten rhymer
Mr. Eon, illest rhyme dropper
Slim Shady, naughty rotten rhymer
Mr. Eon, illest rhyme dropper
| 
