[Scratch]

"Fresh for '85!" "Cuts so clean..." "Get down, get down!"

[Verse 1] Yo, I’m bustin' loose, makin' moves, ridin' grooves, ain’t no jit My style’s def, never wack, gettin' paid, that’s the biz The flyest threads, phat laces, watchin' all the pretty faces My rhymes are turbo, my flow maxin', no time for spacers I sizzle with assonance, my gift is a rip, a sonic trip Got the juice, the power, the strength, never slip or grip B-boys and b-girls in the house, you know the score Droppin’ wisdom like the needle on the vinyl floor I rock the mic, I wreck the stage, turn a new page My message is fresh, don’t need a cage, or a tiny gauge. This ain’t no jive, I’m truly live, my ambition strives.

[Chorus] We the Fly Guys, lookin’ stellar with the gold medals Got the skills to thrill, yeah, we pushin' all the pedals Homeboy, we fresh to death, takin’ every single breath This rhythm is our ghetto bird, flyin’ over all the mess Word to the mother, there ain't no other crew that's tougher We rock the spot, ain't no need to bluff or suffer.

[Verse 2] I’m a smooth operator, ain’t no terminator of the funk Breakin', poppin', lockin', keepin’ the speakers in a trunk My voice slices through the air, a razor's edge, a silent vow I weave a tapestry of sounds, right here and right now Check the homophone play, I’m dope in every sense, not cents you spend My art is grand, a masterplan, that will never end I call my mic my sword, my stage my castle's keep Slant rhymes like a leanin’ sign, ideas runnin' deep Enjambment's the secret, to keep the feeling comin' on My lyrics are the light that breaks before the dawn.

[Chorus] We the Fly Guys, lookin’ stellar with the gold medals Got the skills to thrill, yeah, we pushin' all the pedals Homeboy, we fresh to death, takin’ every single breath This rhythm is our ghetto bird, flyin’ over all the mess Word to the mother, there ain't no other crew that's tougher We rock the spot, ain't no need to bluff or suffer.

[Bridge] Our rep is solid, our vision is bold, story to be told The multisyllabic magic, fantastically drastic, never past it Like a gator in the water, we cruise with power, hour after hour Yeah, we rollin' deep, sleep is for the weak, the boom bap we seek From the block to the top, this beat will never stop, give me the crop! We rock the box, untamed like a fox, hear the tick-tock of the clocks.

[Scratch]

"Pump up the volume!" "The beat is sweet!" "This is a jam!"

[Verse 3] My flow is like water, my thoughts are like steel, what's the deal? I spin the plot like a top, watch the haters reel and feel Internal rhymes in this line, yeah, the design is divine My skills are fine, like a dime, watch my lyrical climb through time The extended metaphor's my limousine, cruisin' past the scene My words are gems, shinin' bright, every single thing I mean Got that syllable precision, causin' auditory collision A wordplay bomb, droppin' calm, fulfillin' my mission Don't be a square, this sound is rare, a fresh affair to share We keep it real, the vibe's so ill, got rhythm to spare.

[Chorus] We the Fly Guys, lookin’ stellar with the gold medals Got the skills to thrill, yeah, we pushin' all the pedals Homeboy, we fresh to death, takin’ every single breath This rhythm is our ghetto bird, flyin’ over all the mess Word to the mother, there ain't no other crew that's tougher We rock the spot, ain't no need to bluff or suffer.

[Outro] That’s right, man. We out. Peace. Don't step to this. BAM!