[Math]: They say our sound’s alternative cos so few have learned of it
I guess it is, but we insist, we fix that before thee curtain hits
Indie got burned a bit, I’ll apply thee tourniquet 
If one form is causing sin, best to lop off all of it
Inform thee clique, you heard blood drip, no more worms for thee pit
I assure you this, that my words ain’t sick
Cos thee microphone blocks all thee germs I spit
So cures are all I transmit
No hit records cos these records hit
Hard as dimethyl-mercury, a catalyst, I’m causing fits
Tho ones sit, we sieze ‘n’ grip ‘n’ hold on to what’s still worth it
You sure got miffed, KaBlamoBliff, rap ain’t in a Shape that’s Ship
Pop records shot from thee gun X was murdered with

[J-Bandana][Hook]:
Hop hip purity slain by pop industry
Paid by a majority, revolt with creativity
(Stay awake)

[Big Martha]: They said yer too young, you can’t make a difference
But who’s got thee power, & where they sitting? 
Wringing yr hands ‘n’ yr teeth yer gritting
Sometimes you gotta stare down life & stop quitting
What happened to thee rest in thee hip hop game?
Beats got tame ‘n’ lyrics more lame
+Thee system was whack+, no one rapper’s to blame
Too many to name, there’s too many to name
& while it might seem like what we’re doing isn’t much
Thee fact that we’re trying should be more than enough
In other words, strength means you question thee answers
Until yr thoughts affect like malignant brain cancers
Fake rappers say that they can do this
But they get lost in thee music as thee noise hits
(Come with me, it is the only way)