[Girl whining on telephone]

[Chorus: Planetary]

Be careful who you talk to
The places that you walk through
You never know when somebody is creepin', tryin' to hawk you

Better grab your gat too
'cause ^!$$%z will attack you
And blast you, right behind your back

'cause the cash rules

[Crypt the Warchild and Planetary]

Yo
Industry rule number four thousand and eighty:
Record execs are made shady for gravy

Protecting your neck can save you and save me
We step on the set, like $#&@ you, pay me
Give 'em a chance, and they'll take food from your babies

And stress you out, to drive a grown ^!$$% crazy
Now ain't that crazy? You ain't kiddin', man
They run for cover when the %#@! really hit the fan

The snakes in the garden, pray on your downfall
Abondon %#@!, it's hazardous, and they can drown y'all
Exploit your people with a image, they can clown y'all

The voice of evil in your ear, you hear the sound, y'all

[Chorus]


[Planetary]
Yo

Ain't nothin' worse than a sheisty (*##$
She'll take cream in your credit, the ice and the whip
Your life and your kids, you're flippin' your lid

Kicked out the crib
A baby on the way, you don't know who's it is
It might be yours, life on pause, nights on tour

You try to call the (*##$, but she yappin' the jaw
You feel like smackin' the !@^%
She contacted the law

Like you never smacked her before
Why she actin' all raw?


[Talking]

[Planetary]

Yo
Just to clarify, I'm Planetary, I terrify
Prepare to die, dawg, but never try

I am the next millenium rapper
Got you trembelin' after the shots blown from the stage
Every sentence I master, ^!$$%

Toxeeded, Philly to Chi-Town town even panics at the ground bleeding
When they hear the sound of demons
I'm fiending this seed of blood dripping from heathens

The reason underground and mainstream had a meetin'
I'm lookin for liquor to drink away the pain
But when the store close I cut my wrist and drink it from the veins

That's in me, Crypt, you you feel me?
A basket case, we take souls from their bodies, a blast of ??plates??
On fire for real, and I retire my deal

It don't matter, I still got wounds and I'm too tired to heal
Every rhyme is for real, and I'ma break these adams
I've been spittin' since ninety one, you can't erase this passion


[Crypt the Warchild]
Yo

I see this ^!$$%z, think they big and they bad
Whylin' out in the club and ??duck?? pissin' in bags
And I ain't even got to use a clip or a mag

I use a twelve inch blade to split %#@! when I'm mad
Let you rot six days, 'til the stinkin' is bad
Let my pen print rage when it sinks in the pad, homie

So get it right, I'm a murder machine
Stampeded through the wilderness to murder your team
Cats bleedin' like I slit they wrist, burstin' their dreams

Guaranteeing you'll be feelin' this, superb when I glean
I spit fire, homocidal, and there's no reasoning
Get drunk, bury the needle, killing season is in
Headhunt, buryin' people in this steep full of sin
I'm leatherface with a chainsaw, splittin' your chin

So don't approach me with no lame talk, as simple as grim
Unless you like to see your frame choke again and again, ^!$$%

[Somebody talking]
Now that's what I'm talkin' about, man

Murder these mother$#&@as, dawg
We outta this (*##$, man, meet me at the mother$#&@in' bar