young bucks call this old school style/ with no clue they smile
as i’m reviled at whats spoken by juveniles
but they not so used to how
a snare slap / and kick boom sound / inspire souls and move a crowd
check it/ what you hearing is standard embedded by golden era veterans
as a template/ not just for rememberin’
forget what / popular rap / says is freshest
puttin no effort into bars/ and it’s these lethargic records
that bleed out the heart of hiphop and discredits legends
cus’ real heads/ don’t feel em and yearn for something better
this beat thump/ is the demand for excellence
it’s that audio fist balled up / banging on your entrance
Seems/ like i’m jus a blip on screen
but this that rhyme scheme/ deep within belly of wicked beast
til the truth of your depravity rips thru your chest cavity
while you grit teeth and scream like ridley scott movie scenes

(THROW YOUR HANDS IN THE SKY)
BOOFZILLA! BRUISE AND HIT UP
FUTILE WICKED INFLUENZA
(THROW YOUR HANDS IN THE SKY)
YOUR GUNS AND TANKS CAN’T STOP
THE PRAISE AND THANKS
(THROW YOUR HANDS IN THE SKY)
IF YOU HOLDIN UP THE WALL THEN YOU MISSING THE POINT

hit you with a picture of devastation/ then switch it up to restoration
like extreme makeover/ presentations
Ox delivers with vigor of earthquakes/ quivering richter scales
impale verbal vertebrae quicker than
beauty pageants raps on radio stations
look at these glamorous accessories and transportation
call it old man rants / while waving my cane
to get these whippersnappers off my grass/ but instead of that
my rants are microphone shotgun blasts
leaving kiddie rappers careers dead in their tracks
and betcha that - won’t defect these pop chart zombies
to unplug the cable from they skull like Keanu Reeves
i’m on one!!... NO Drake’s interpretations
this spirit blazin’ lyricism / not fake illustrations
while they rake in millions / raping children’s brains
me and crew will be chosen few to speak the truth unashamed