[Hook] 4 Broz by Broz, back again Chase Boys - J. Rage-a - let the party begin [Tater Chips] The Tater is back with a salty surprise Strap on your goggles and protect your eyes From my lyrical explosion, you'll get the notion That your honey got preggers from the Tater Potion In perpetual motion, gold records each week The only gold that you got is from the plaque on your teeth Bitch, feel the heat, Oatmeal dropping the beats Got that funky fresh flow from Worthington Street I got style - so crank up the dial Let me spit in your club - service with a smile I'm the rhythm crocodile and I'm worth your while If you don't think I'm sexy then you're in denial So watch your mouth, and lower your tone I'll make your ma cum through the telephone Are you alone? It's my brother and me Let me put you on hold for Da Reel MC [Da Reel MC] You it's MC and I'm back again You know the broz gave me another track again I grabbed a pad and a pen and got back at it to win The best rhymes of all time will have you clapping my friend 2Pac, Biggie Smalls, J, Nas and Mase Two, three, four, five, six one is Matt Chase Girl, look at your face, turn around, skip the record Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake Shake that ass, like Michael J. Fox In a school bus on a bumpy road filled with rocks My hip hop like a clock, cause I tick til I tock When it comes to rhyme, they call me Mr. Spock Because I'm the final frontier of your rapping career I make you wine with a sign that says the end is near I write quicker with liquor but I write slicker with beer I just spit out a hit and make the money appear My ryhmes are hot, I get paid a lot I stack more paper than Michael Scott I even got more Dundies than Michael got Like I done these bitches, then I forgot I got a .45 in the truck of my car I had 45 shots last night at the bar I know 45 songs on electric guitar I killed 45 men, only got one scar There was only one man that I couldn't kill Jesus H.Q. Christ, tell them how you feel [J. Rage-a] The Journalist eternal, hailing from CLE Coming back out of your speakers, listen progeny Gotten stronger, gotten faster in my rhymes and my flow I'm solid like the steel setting up in the mold Hip hop sabbatical, radical - I know it Y'all don't care, cause you love the way I flow it My rhymes win awards from coast to coast All the ladies love me, I don't mean to boast But it's easy to see how I earned all this fame My hypnotic delivery is the best in this game Oatmeal's beats are sicker than your friend Who drank a bottle of Bombay, brought his night to an end Da Reel MC, what else can I say? His rhymes so provocative they might turn me gay And Tater's delivery is all but discreet Who could forget when when he rapped about his meat? 4 Broz are back and we ain't taking shit If you don't like that, suck our motherfucking dicks!

[Saruman of May Kronics] Strolling down the street, listening to ELO Sippin' on apple juice, laid back; like a polyhedron I'm solid I'm a gas, my funds are liquid I've got a 1+ armor save And impeccable Horadric knowledge When I search Google I'm always feeling lucky Is 4 Broz hep? Does Ernie have a rubber ducky? We're rolling out ahead like a trundle bed Running once again like Eugene V. Debs OMG we're celebs! We draw crowds with centripetal force It's a tide that won't ebb The Menace cleans up your act like a dental hygienist Gets all the girls dancing like Elaine Benes Hip Hop Renaissance man, you'd think I hailed from Venice Anyone for tennis? I use the commutative property But I can't commute your sentence [Mr. Natural] The Natural's been diagnosing all you clowns on the circuit Your scene's a weeping dick hubris And your beats be stank like some scene deep shit Yea, I see you, smug-mugging, auto-tuned and washed in synthesizer I hate your fucking ass like a Zimmerman sympathizer I'd love to stick around and rack my dome for who it is your trifling mouth bit But I'm too busy rendering your girls vocabulary, oh shit! I'm a curved cock cuddle monster, keeping it dank and subliminal Been wandering these 50 states with the old dirty dog as my spirit animal We smoked the leaves of the bodhi tree, now we're walking the earth Singing the praises of them women with that bob crumb girth We bounce from Chi-town to Seattle, we lead a Cali on a whim I bummed a cigarette off of my mom, now I'm Virginia Slim So get behind the mule, child, and plow with me, yungin' The future's looking a little flacid so we best inject that shit with something, STAT [J. Rage-a] A journalist by night, you all know this But most of my days I fly the tundish A steel bathtub, say what you will It's hot and dirty and it pays the bills This job is metal, no pun intended Cast it high strength so you can bend it I've blown a load at the BOF Ladies have claimed my touch is deft My argon panels are full of gas Inhale too much, you'll be on your ass My soft start will get your motor turning For my dick you ladies be yearning If molten metal makes you sweat The steam chamber will get you wet 4 Broz By Broz brings the thrills But Uncle Lakshmi still pays my bills [Stephen Genes] Call me the shit - I'm floating My flow is owning -the rhyme is cold Your style's awful - I'm in a waffle cone You must be pissed I kissed your momma - she gave me calzones I declined, you see, I'm on a diet of microphones [Lil 2k10] 4broz is back, yeah we got the whole crew A new record from the broz has been long overdue Giving the human race our lyrical wisdom Spraying in your ears our pent up rap jizz cum I want to have some words with the non-believers Tell the haters where we at the last couple of years When we were busy being awesome you were sucking the most When we won the trophy you were burning the toast You got a weak whip we roll a super bee Right now your girl is begging Sucka Slim for the D Shout out to Oatmeal making fools like us sound tight I could fart into the mic and he'll mix it up alright I'm sick of all the fools out there who think they can rap Just because you can rhyme the word rap with crap slap Want a review that compares your lines to mine? My rhymes: sublime, your rhymes: a crime... JAIL TIME! [Tangerines] I keep my dick in a plastic bag so I can pee where ever I want All the kids getting sick off the heroin that I sold and they bought I do and sell and harvest drugs, I spend all my time at the clubs Where all the public rub-a-dubs ride up on my cock And I need extra big condoms, but like powdered wigs, I don't wear them And my balls are like two beautiful cherubs Hold up a constricting boa that cums like Krakatoa Anyways, I have more cars than anyone else I have more guns than anyone else I have more kids than anyone else, and I don't give a damn about them But I guess that just says something about my personality

[MC Half Mast] I’m rappin, I’m rappin’, someone please hand me a napkin I like to wipe my fingers after every time I’m snackin' Sucka Slim back on the mic so let us get a crackin’ A crackin on some Kraken, the Cruzan or even Captain Working on this case like my name was Bert Macklin. So now let me see who the culprit could be Pound a few drinks, and now I gotta pee Could someone clarify “What the heck was in that whiskey” Dr. Brule, Dr. Brule diagnose my flow Is it ill, in need of pills, will it stop the show? I don’t really care cause I’m a doctor too Just sawr a dang stranger and that stranger was you! Haven’t been to Dave & Busters, cool your thrusters If you ask, then Haph Mast will smack all you Mother fuckers Swimming in the glass lined tanks of old Latrobe Get out, dry off, throw on my robe It’s when I take it off bitches flock me in droves They love my verse cause I don’t care for prose With my man Tater Chips, his salty smells hit my nose He’s locking up the track in case you didn’t know Back from the dead 2k10 has arose Or it seems as he gleams from his head to his toes Laying down this track for the mutha lovin’ bros All the lumber was bought from a place called Lowe’s We got a chorus on this one, and here’s how it goes [Hook] Illness in our spit - We got a sick flow Just like a bakery - We make a lotta dough Our beds are ten feet high - We never lie low You keep on coming back- So here’s a little mo’ [Lil 2k10] Word on the street is people got to know Why I go by 2k10 YO that was three years ago, bro Long story but if you're gonna bitch like krang I can rang the dang thang for the gang if you hang, mang This tale I will tell in a free flow niche To which I got to switch when I get that itch, bitch Rolling - twelve patrolling - 4 broz BLAOW 'OH SHIT' and then I glocked a way out - that's why they call me 2k10 So if you want to roll with me I only got one rule Got to roll with all the broz and pay for the fuel, fool You got to get us pabst and you got to pay the bill And buy all the meat I'll throw it on the grill If the pigs come down on us you'll be taking the heat You're a lucky bastard, this deal can't be beat But if you give us shit our good will goes down the drain End up in Rage-a's backyard six feet under next to Wayne [Tater Chips] It's the snack food Jesus coming down from the sky Elected President of Hip-Hop High Two fucking times and I'm drinking wine Hand me the mic, it's my time to shine I cast a lyrical spell on your Supreme Clientele Like American Idol, I'm hung quite well So let's go Pop Pop, and I won't stop stop If you dip into my wallet, you're gonna get shot I don't like Kid Rock or the Boston Red Sox Let me lift up my fingers and leave you in shock As I rock every block from Belize to Bombay Putting cream in your grits - Parlez-vous français? Don't fucking play or you'll wind up dead "Uhh, Jimmy can't go to school, there's a hole in his head" Force fed the best rap group of all time They use my rhymes as proof of intelligent design Let me redefine your definition of truth: I saw Sasquatch, I don't need any proof Me and Sas smoking grass up in Arkansas With the Yeti Girls - yes, it was a blast Sucka Slim, 2k10 - tight like Frog and Toad My words flow, so start stopping your boots Tater Chips coming home with all your looooooot!

[DJ Oatmeal] La-Z-Boy back and enjoy yourself Cause just like soy, Oatmeal's good for your health Says your physician, 4 Broz 2nd edition on a mission 4th floor office door sign says we're out fishin' And I spread it on thick, like grandmas canned jam I'm back in the saddle like the Son of Sam I am an appliance designed to drop science My bill paying skills is what keeps me financed Bringing tracks back to life like Solomon Grundy And I cut up a rug like it's a dame and I'm Bundy This groove's got the back that makes you shake your tush Fat Bass line's thicker than George W's Bush Ladies on the dance floor: we know you wanted more We're back on the wax- and it's time settle the score Our funk's a work of art -and it's hanging in The Louvre When the patrons walk past it - you know they bust a move [Hook] Cause I gotta, gotta gotta, gotta groove right now! [H nasty Bamboo Shoots a.k.a. Tangerines] I'm farting out rhymes all over your face I'm the Rapping Detective, and I'm wrapping up this case If you lost your daugher, I can help you find her Phantom Menace puts the case files in a 3-ring binder There's no need to call an ambulance You're not covered in ants, there's no hot soup in your pants I'm just slamming these rhymes down hard Like Larry Nance When I get up on stage, you're going to stand up and dance [Tangerines and DJ Oatmeal] We rhyme with speed - nah, we don't fatigue Members of the Poetic Justice League Tangerines and Oatmeal got nothing left to prove We're a great a breakfast combo for those who got to groove [Hook] [Tangerines] Wine and condoms - all you need at a picnic Let me flick you a quick tip - you can't handle this dick, kid You're flaccid - I cum miracles on ice like Lake Placid Shoot it in your eyues - it blinds like battery acid Oh? I got you pregnant? Well, isn't that tragic? Take my advice and go get an abortion And don't you dare ask me to pay my portion 'Caue I can't, cause I won't Cause 4 Broz is back at the club Making all the girls moist and all the guys get chubs Doing hip hop dances like Coach Z and Bubs Now stop bothering me about child support! [Hook] [DJ Oatmeal] Screams peel for Oatmeal and they always be pesterin' Pull a Charleston Heston, fire my Smith and Wesson And I got a round left for a lucky-feeling punk Shatter you like glass on a O'Neil dunk 3 sheets to the wind, half mast already gone His partial got court martialed, twas illegal public schlong Saruman ain't on the chronic, he's hooked on phonics He got a B+ in pleasure from The the School of Hedonics Now it's me and Tangerines and we're on the scene and Gotta Move to this groove like you were bustin' a Keaton The Times headline's got the full details: "Oatmeal fucked up the track like a penny on the rails"

[Saruman of many Kronics] We don't have potbellies - but we're fat We don't have sonar - but we know where it's at We're not radioactive - but we'll melt your face Saruman - Steve Genes We rest our case Phantom Menace striking back lyrics rushing like Zerg Did I break your concentration? I hope it was insured If you're having rhyme trouble, I feel bad for you son I've got 99 problems but a bridge ain't one If I had my druthers, I'd pen another with precision Don't have Shinigami eyes but I'm a man with vision Step off fool; I serve only Ner'zul Call me Silmarillionaire, I ride dirty like the Nazgul I'm neutral good with maxed lyrical dexterity You hosers suck more than gravitational singularities Are you asking for a challenge? or have I misunderstood? You're out of your element; doubleplusungood! I stole fizzy lifting drinks; I'm 1337 You're still fumbling through basic grammar lessons Are you thick as a brick? are you out of your gourd? Steve Genes is here to teach you the fear of the Lord [Stephen Genes] Girl, your butt is like a crayon So cray, 64 shades Draw all day, sharpen on the back Keep the tips tight, talking bout the big box, Girl, that ass is like a crayon So cray, 64 shades Draw all day, sharpen on the back Keep the tips tight, open up a big box Doodle all night The beat- it's a steamer like Cleveland Believe what you read when it's written in my semen Bitch please, You know my skeet is mac and cheese and you're a vegan, So only artificial creamin', only california dreamin' Like Benson, I'm Breezin' Breathin' rhymes instead of air, I'm the best there, I'm first chair Plus I got chest hair, big testes - yes a blessed pair Thanks Engine make you blank stare [Saruman and Stephen Genes] Tater's rhymes are Windows 8, yours are MSDos Reel MC's lines will strike you down like in Paradise Lost Oatmeal is lumpy, he's the Scrumbletown prince Half Mast is a blast in the ass from the past 2k10 knows when, what year is it again? Rage-a's the spell-caster, like Macaulay the Pagemaster Tangerines rips out your spleen, makes you live in a latrine "Forever" 4 Broz shows bust more guts than KISS If you're gonna spew, spew into this

[DJ Oatmeal] Pay attention - class is now in session There's a test at the end so take notes of this lesson Today's Lecturer - Professor Oatmeal talking shit You'd win award of the year for being a twit I pop you like a zit - deflate your self esteem Burst your bubble, hopes crumble to rubble, you awaken from your dreams Cause it seems you never seen rhymes like these I'll take you out like the trash or phone order Chinese If I was a guitar solo, I'd be played by Brian May If I was grain alcohol, I'd be Sapphire Bombay Sans the juice, I cut loose, next to me you're a deuce In the crapper, dead last rapper, bringing up the caboose Cause I ran train on this verse, sent it home in a hearse If you bet on me to win, you going home with the purse Cursed to be worse than me, you ain't got the credentials To be bona-fide, qualified so put down all your pencils This Hip hop test is over, and I passed it like I thundered Past a semi in the left lane by going over hundred Now get outta here"CLASS DISMISSED" you all got schooled And I "tore the school down" and I peed in your pool! [Da Reel MC] One bitch, two bitch, red bitch, blue bitch If it smells a little fishy, it's time to get a new bitch Hey, where the hell am I at? I woke up drunk in the trunk of an old Pontiac They put a mic in my grill and said preach some truth But first I need resuscitation, mouth to Vermouth I got buckets, like Uncle Drew I'll make you faint in the paint when I'm coming through I drive this rap attack with a black Cadillac I drop a load in the road like Jack Kerouac And I got more ladies than Wilt the Stilt They call The Pimping Hall of Fame the House that Chase Built Had five pregnancy scares in the last two years I'm sitting on different bitches like it's musical chairs Get me a beer! [Saruman of Many Kronics] Here's a gift that'll make you think, it's an early Rosh Hashanah No it's a not a new greatest hits volume from Nirvana It's the second installment of Saruman's chronicle My lines are so fine, to read them you'll need a monocle The secret word is "4 Broz"; keep an ear to the ground When someone says the secret word; scream real loud But you'll be cheering anyway, when we bust out a chorus 'bout Aperture Labs or Ashenvale Forest This disk is no flop; read the rave reviews: The greatest sophomore effort since Monster Blood II They're at the top of their game, at risk of sounding overzealous They've got hooks that'd make Dr. Hutchison jealous "Mr. Phantom Menace, how do you do it?" I learned everything I know from Mr. Bean and Pappy Drewit Phasers Mr. Chekov; warp 10 Mr. Sulu Frakkin' with me is like frakkin' with Cthulu That's all I've got; time I went the way of Vader See you in the funny papers; smell you later!

[Stephen Genes the Magnanimous] Well fed, we got 'zza - far our like Sun Ra Undead like Mumm-Ra - I flow cold like tundra I got flatulence abound, yes I'm tooting out the good sounds Praise for my timbre resounds, call me the gaseous eraser of frowns Waft the bouquet of wordplay, Or should I say "sniff my farts" Well bless your heart! I'm blissfully pissing on your pop tarts And now I'll skeet on your shredded wheat - part of a complete meal Treat you to my veal - You know I mean my wiener I'm a winner at the dinner table Legendary like a fable - able to rock the joint Call me The Finger cause I'm always on point [MC Half Mast] Hopped up into Target, man, looking for a deal Silverware - $5 - That's what I call a stainless steel Met a lady in line, told her I always keep it real She was dressed so fine and wore some nice high heels We got to the talking, one thing led to another And the next thing I knew, I was doinking someones mother By the time we were done, I had discovered That her husband came home, and I shouted "Oh, brother!" This actually never happened, though I dreamt it one time How I wish it were real and not just in my mind Such a deal on knives and forks, would I ever even find? On the off chance I did, I would rob the Target blind I don't give a shit, here is Mr. Dr. DJ Oatmeal [DJ Oatmeal] Exceptional? Please - you're average, in the middle I'm a nine on the Richter and you barely make a squiggle My rhymes, refined sugar sticky sweet, get stuck in the beat On continuous repeat, cause these broz are neat And flock in feather, together on my cue Kitchen cooking, a bitching sort of witches brew Each MC a piece in a stew of a saga Ali Baba, open sesame, and the words flow like lava And burn the ears of my peers in the sphere of my influence My style - worthwhile, finessed and nuanced With a pleasing aesthetic, and my flow - copacetic I rhyme the whole dictionary, do it alphabetic The evidence - empirical, my lyrical dictation Ranks me top three in the R and B nation Don't change the station, cause your patience just paid off Carry the 'x' and divide, enlightenment equation solved