[Math/Martha]: Cos tricks ain’t tricking fingerlicking/I’m stuck to thee beat but the beat ain’t sticking/I’m strictly stricken the pace won’t quicken/I’m the cock of the walk cos the rest are chicken/I slip when I slide but at no other time/No parsley no sage no rosemary no slime/I use no additive but I add what I give/Cos the world gets liver when I live/& where we live is Tha Underground
(Where the sun don’t shine)

Kick it off Math/Date the cats dump the kittens/So I’m spitting wearing mittens/& if I’m in the World Series I’m home run hitting
Rounding out the bases rounder than yr face is/You punk preppy fatty concerned with what my race is/Whiter than yr teeth? Oh wait they’re yellow/How about a smack you racist dense fellow? Catch the snitch like a seeker twisting like a nipple tweaker/If I’m in the lab I’m drinking boric acid from a beaker/I don’t know Drunken but I know Iron Head/We practice don’t get drunk while my parents are in bed/So I don’t drink booze I drink sparkling cider/I got a wide load of rap but yo mine’s wider/I drop rhymes faster than Bush approval ratings/Rhymes cascading MC invading
So my breakbeat buckbeak ramshackle attack is heading for yr earlobes ‘n’ it’s never coming back
(No sunlite, shed light where the sun don’t shine)

With our 7 track style tracks slipping thru the cracks style/Yr backpack style’s whack so I’ll let loose Math’s smack style/I’m Math I’m a little nutty but my buddy’s keeping me in check while my face is looking studly/So let loose the wrath of Math on a warpath/When I’m on the mic lyrics clean like take a bath/So we’ll say it one more time ‘n’ one time only/Math ‘n’ Big Martha are never rapping phony/Cos it’s Judas sans Priest Iron with no Maiden/To take us from the rap game is like Poe without the Raven/Nevermore! & yeah it’s my opinion that all the best crews come from Northern Virginia
(Backlick Road/The Path of the Math/Fairfax County)
Cos we’re so underground we’ve never been out of our cellar/We don’t need mobile cos we don’t rock the cellular/We use morse code ‘n’ cups attached to strings/No digital we’re strictly into analogue things/If rap were jewelry we wouldn’t be bling/We’d be a dollar bill folded up into a ring/Cos we rock that…in tha Underground