Thornacular
Iame:
The damn mood is constant, fuck an attitude adjustment
I need a new drug, a new topic for discussion
A new product to plug in, trust and care for
Like Wi-fi in the air, I connect with what's out there; and therefore
I'm subject of my being getting thrown, done getting flung
I wipe out a million clones all at once, they're no threat to me
Real recognise real, that's the success of me
You talking shit behind some keyboard,
obsessed with pressing these buttons
Haters so bitched to the day the names in the obits
They gon' remain anonymous (you're nothing)

Onlyone:
Money talks? I hope not for my wallet's sake (listen)
Money talks? What the fuck does a dollar say?
To pollenate a devil's ears all it takes is Belvedere
Chronic and metal gear, like Solid Snake
I'm a respected songwriter
Reaching the upper echelon to set it on fire (chea!)
My vocals is the sickest next to bronchitis (go ahead)
I got mad game and still test it on minors
I'm flyer than the airforce
So fly I make any virus airborne
And I declare war

Mo-b:
Keep one eye open, trust them one iota
And they fuck you, my pupils constrict like meiosis
My heart's colder than Minnesota
Golden gopher got me diggin holes to hide the blow
Hope this shit blow over
On the corner where I started pumping nickels
They given them rich bread, like pumpernickel
Got rid of more eighths than Sandpeople crew [...]
Got the big head in my [...]
Move weight, push plates like anorexic dinner dates
Trying to get my dick wet and my shoes laced

Gold:
Don't give me reason to reach into your heart-work
And draw inspiration with every fear that you harbour
For free I'm free to do what the ufck I wanna
My land is sea, that means [...] I walk on water
I can't save hip-hop, I'd rather save Darfur
With these words offered, I'm sure to be deemed martyr
Riff barber, layin the cut for scissor foods
You I've seen in the sand write in which the vampires interview,
but darker
Second generation Thornburg forefather, sacrificial life
For this mic like a lamb lead to slaughter

Peegee 13:
Oh yeah, it's a landslide, step aside with Lieberman
You turncoats get turned soft and sent back to Beaverton
And you best be believing in the hype
'cause Od and Sandpeople keep it tight
You know I'm right, but in this case the right got left behind
Like Tim Lahaye psycho Bible fiction'll drift away
Right...yeah...as if Tim Mcveigh would resurrect from the dead
And kill a building full of rednecks--not happening, not socialist
But their spine's gelatinous, they haven't got a bone to pick
So stop picking your nose and eating it kid
You got some growing up to do
You don't know who you're beefing with