Beyond sight and sound, yo, the city is electric
 drink up and bite down, man, the CD is defective
 Night owls [bad word] the air 'cause the sidewalk's infected
 wake up in broad nightlight, like, what's for breakfast?
 Cigarettes and tap water, yeah, I'm feeling restless
 40s and flying saucers stop the text message
 drop top ale, pop tarts and ranch dressing
 we are what we eat and we eat what we're less of
 I'm an emo human without a time on my hand
 you're a dude who freeloads music, DSL, broadband
 and I might be goddamned or get my [bad word] capped
 but at least I got in the last rap
 Yo, forget about the [bad word]  man it's in the verse
 and I'll show you what hardcore is, my hand in your purse
 You read about the stories, you played in that dirt
 now tell me what you got for me, for better or for worse

Beyond sight and sound, yo, the city is electric
 drink up and bite down, man, the CD is defective
 Night owls [bad word] the air 'cause the sidewalk's infected
 wake up in broad nightlight, like, what's for breakfast?
 Politics and apocalypse (somebody's got to address it)
 [...] bread and hollow tips (hope the readers digest it)
 And only if you could swallow it, contents'll leave you congested
 you know what, I am what I smoke, and I smoke what I'm more of (dope [bad word] 
 and heavy doses of that puff puff, pass out
 rolling magic dragon, throwing brown bags in a glass house
 Don't need to throw your tags in, I don't read labels
 no need to watch TV, I don't have cable
 no need to watch TV, I don't like fables
 no need to need no H2O when your nasals been filled with poison
 I already hear voices, I'm the people's choice
 for people who don't know how to make their own choices

Beyond the blind and deaf, yo, this town is kinetic
 throw up and spit down, man, the CD is infested
 Night prowlers [...] for more leverage
 go to sleep in broad daylight, like, what's next?
 It's children of the thorn, angry and aggressive
 Northwest order supporters of that fresh [bad word]  and my Sandpeoples, that's hip-hop perfected
 and the whole [...] for flashing the message
 for folks I just reaching, I ain't nothing to mess with
 take the lint out your pocket on some SS [bad word] (starving)
 We've been fed [bad word] like town jesters
 and they wonder why we ain't got a CD and a presskit
 we don't make first impressions, there's no one to be impressed with
 Closing our open mic sessions like suicide bombers with a death wish
 we hold it down in your [...] city or section
 regardless I hold my own, 'cause god bless the kid