Yeah, yo the evaporate remix
You got to love it My man Dutchmassive
Me, Majik Most and Celph Titled
We had to come back and evaporate your face
With the remix
(Verse 1: Dutchmassive)
Ah, yo Majik said that I can say anything that I want
So I crushed this verse right under my writers block
Build a pyramid of punch lines and hover right above it Roll out the red carpet because Dutch can’t think of nothing
And he’s such a fucking star kid, you hear all the trumpets
Trample on your drum while I brought my own procession
Fucking up the industry, rebuild as it was meant to be
A swift response for the God to have sent for me A centipede named crazy legs couldn’t out do The B-boy superhuman while he’s performing this music
Star struck rappers screw face like Jon Gruden
Too serious about their little underground movement
Press up some vinyl, hurry to do exclusives
Now your closet full of Pumas is filled with dusty units
(Just sitting there) next to the mic and the broomstick
Some people are just so, so stupid
So move bitch, get out the way
Equilibrium is drunk again, wiling on stage
Fucking up a verse, holding down the Tropic States
And we make emcees worldwide evaporate
(Chorus)
(Verse 2: Majik Most)
Ay, yo, I’m off the meter, like Mr. Wizard launching two liters
The new and improved Majik Most with new features
Gnawing on your girls little breast like a beaver
So pack it up bitch, because I’m coming through raw
Kids you know I smack you with a rusted hacksaw
Like oh shit, is that a piece of his jaw
Brawling 24−7 to sever your brethren
Got you begging for heaven, sending you straight to hell
And I’ll be right here, while you chilling in the morgue
I’m online, selling your liver on organ.org
Get your face thawed while your family applaud
For all of y’all grab the mic and never fail
While you go in gay bars and order a cocktail
Fronting in the restaurant like you was the man
I botch your plans, send you a batch of bad clams
With more botchulism than a box of canned hams, bitch!
(Chorus)
(Verse 3: Celph Titled)
Ay yo, the words out, me and my team came to shut this down
And my guns came too, they want to bust some rounds
Cold chilling on the block like I’m selling Kane
Chopping bodies up, wrapping up remains in cellophane
Don’t mean to frighten kids, I’m just a star rocking coats
Looking like they’ve made from Mary J. Blige’s wigs
You should let your man speak on your behalf
Because when I let the blade slice, you’ll just be half
And I got a dungeon in my bathroom
Plus the way I torture mother fuckers
It’s like I’m Vidal Sassoon
Turn a blond nigga to redhead
Futon to a death bed, bullets keep you breast fed
When I’m aiming for the chest, oh now the game’s over
At the Up in Smoke tour with a flamethrower
Looking for a dumb girl that’s slower than a Screw tape
With a fat ass, never tell that bitch to lose weight
From Robles Park to Waters Avenue
One of the only rappers who
Takes a trip to hell every afternoon
And still here to tell about it It’s Equilibrium to the death
Mother fuckers get devoured