Blockbuster Night Part 1

Verse 1: Killer Mike

Bunches and bunches

Punches is thrown until you’re frontless

Oodles and oodles

Bang bullets at suckers' noodles

Last album? Voodoo!

Proved that we was fuckin' brutal

I’m talking crazy, half past the clock is cuckoo

You rappers doodoo

Baby shit, just basic boo boo

I’m Shaka Zulu

Mansa Musa, my money's beaucoup

My beats is bangin’

Fuck what you rappin

Who produced you?

I slapped the snot, take what ya got

And Run The Jewels you

Verse 2: El-P

You itsy bitsy

Furry frightened

And fricken' sickly

A little prickly, dick on display for Winter swimming

Look at these kiddies, Mike

I'm a rat-a-tat 'em for living

I deal in dirty work

Do the deed and then dash

Ditch 'em

I'd lend a hand but it's stuck in a fist and gun position

We run a brand where destruction's the number one commitment

It’s all a joke between mom contractions and coffin fittings

So we disappear in the smoke

Like we're fucking magicians

Verse 3: Killer Mike & (El-P)

No hocus pocus, you simple suckers been served a notice

Top of the morning, my fist to your face is fucking Folgers

(We might be giants, standing on little dandy shoulders)

You punks is pussy proverbial pansy panty holders

I Jake the Snake ‘em, DDT ‘em in mausoleums

Macabre massacres killing cunts in my coliseum

(They all actors, giving top in back of a BM

I’d fall back if the casting calls are ending in semen)

Verse 4: EL-P

I'm the foulest, no need for any evaluation

I'm a phallus, a Johnson, a jimmy spraying faces

Any cow that is sacred will get defaced

Like any tyrant murderer gets replaced

Face it

The fellows at the top are likely rapists

But you're like, "Mellow out, man, just relax, it's really not that complicated"

Well pardon me, I guess I'm just insane as you explained

Or maybe sanctifying the sadistic is deranged

Verse 5: Killer Mike

This Run The Jewels is

Murder, mayhem, melodic music

Psychotics use it to lose it

Junkies simply abuse it

That's word to Phillip Seymour Hoff' and I'm kushin', coughin'

I probably smell like a pound when they put me in a coffin

The gates of hell are pugnaciously pacin', waitin'

I give a fuck if I'm late, tell Satan be patient

But I ain't here for durations, I'm just taking vacations

And tell him fuck him, I never loved him and salutations