Lyrics of '151' by Jedi Mind Tricks

Let it be known from the gate yo I ain't cut no coke
Don't let me hear that in your raps or ima cut ya'll throat
Throw your sham in the air while I puff my smoke
Green bottles red sauce till im numb and broke

See these bucks in the street, im the one they quote
And got 'em stuck to this beat from the stuff I wrote
Dedicated to those who let they rusto glow
Lyrics husky on the track and let they muscles show
And if you can't rock a problem its a must ya'll go

When niggas talk a lot of rap but can't conduct no flow
And ya'll could give me any beat and I'll spit regardless
7L scratch it up, till his mitts is claw less
Dont invite us to the lab, if it ain't fit in our list
Cause my dogs spit out sounds till they lips is jaw less

Ya'll in the killer fields when its time for harvest
Step into these vets when ya'll cats is novice
Ya'll never been to war dont even know what Nam is
Until I spit from the trees, and close your coffins

Where my niggas on the streets at?
Where the money at? We need that
Where the mics? Where the techniques at? We need that
Running underground music we eat that
This year were bringing beef off the meat rack

I am a menace to microphones murdering your militia
I manufacture move, I creep like Caterpillars
Shattering niggas, Transform into bad gorillas
Lyrics will burn stages ya'll all fags we killers

Space rebel, im above you like eight levels
Bass and treble extinguishes brains and breaks metal
I slay devils, Planetary the Apostle
Known to leave bodies my vocabulary hostile

Mercenary with a third optical lens
Underground street serpent, put a stop to your trend
Blocking your men from making any move
Heavy twos, every jewel Resurrects now my legacy cruise

A loan shark, I lend out cash ya'll bones part
With neon nikes you see me in the zone dark
We own hearts, fight phantoms I'm like cannons
I am a cannibal spitting a ghetto anthem

151 one sip will make a nigga flip
Must have been puerto rican rum

Ayo we been bad since the days of LL and Sinbad
Now take a fifth to the chest like McNabb
My clique stabs this body blows and quick jabs
Scorching I be royal the pot ya'll stiff drabs

I shift past your whole regime with this trash
Unadulterated it obscene I spit glass
Sick grammar Ya'll be killing your road manager
Flowerful force killing 57 passengers

Dr. Banner incredible Hulk I mistake Bannisters
Whether they spray hammers, or spray paint canisters
Man from the dead and this ain't no Saint Lazarus
Never speaking after this, I hate amateurs

If you hate Scavengers raw hate I'm space after this
I will annihilate and blaze you fake activists
I'm too treacherous, bruise ya'll crews next to us
Coming for the world

Where my niggas on the streets at?
Where the money at? We need that
Where the mics? Where the techniques at? We need that
Running underground music we eat that
This year were bringing beef off the meat rack