Take It To The Streets

Intro:
You better recognize what. sn*tchh your fkin' head from your neck. Word
up it's the cold blooded sin. Strickly murder. Legion of Doom 94. Word 'em
up this is how we do that s**t. Techs to your record son. s**t. fck that
s**t. Word 'em up that how we're always been.

50 Grand:
Yo check it, I feel the vibe like Shanet
Collaborate on brains and bend you as* like a Sinse'
My death sentense is danger
I black out like Joe Ripken hittin' the floor like the chamber
The sick authorist transmits for no repent
And activate the plan the Pentagon inelligents
So listen close like musical chairs
The L.O.D. is deep then the Under The Stairs
I crack million dollar script like an archetict
And execute like the chair when I inflict death
I got the creepiest slang in this galaxy
And wreck the industry so mysteriously
Coming with the funk from beneath I creep straight for juggelars
And twist rap caps for all you motherfkers
Walk the blood streets with 19 shots in the lueger
be scared to face 50 Grand like Medusa
The s**t I produce is like gin and juice when it blend
Scenes from Toni Braxton you'll Never Breath Again
I rhyme without ability to reason, is guilty of treason
Who's to blame but the Legion to the Doom

Hook:
With punk we got beef so
(L.O.D. about to take it to the streets)
On the mic we definatly got beats so
(L.O.D. about to take it to the streets)

Ron Jay:
Roy Jay go the wickedest mystic magestic flow
From a homicidal clique, Yo E make that psycopathic mix
I hits for the hecks or the s**t that causes conflict in the script
Beeotch my style set on fire to touch Venus
My soul seeks the universe while I'm sleepin'
I'm creepin' makin' myself develop with the chronic
Electronic Million Dollar Man the mic bionic
So you can feel it in your nerves when I blast off into the suburbs
Conduct like ? with electrofying words
I freak to them suicidal tracks break backs
scarred fakin' fkin' heart atttacks
Oooh when I'm comin' through the crowd
want static yo I got the gun pazoow, wizoow, word up

50 Grand:
I got the slaughter for your brains drive you insain
fk that s**t

News Interlude

Keith Murray:
The moderation incobation of my creation
Is instantaniously with my vocabulation accumulation
Trust me as I bust thee, lyrical homicidal s**t from Keith Murray
If I had 24 hours to live and one wish
I wouldn't wish for no d*mn lifesavers
I'd start going wild like Larry Davis
The funk speach vigalante from the L.O.D.
Gets funky freakly and freaky fluently
And deep as Greek mythology on level Z
Theres six million ways to die
And eight million stories in the naked city and all them are lies
So I keep my wittiest ironist hidious
Psychosis bloodiest flow decitious
Comin' from out this orbit deep space 9's wiggle my s**t
Meltin' crew down like synthetic acid
Come half steppin' fession' through a section
And get the midsection of your brain drain
With mad man expression, no quesion and no second guessin'

Outro:
Yo 40 dreams and blunts for witches. Yeah that's what we got for them
. Yo lets get on it get off it. L.O.D. we won't forfit.
A-yo check it out. L.O.D. is the man. A-yo put your money where your
mouth is at nigg* yeah. I have you rockin' dazie dukes and Reebok pumps
nigg* yeah, yeah. L.O.D. style for 94 yeah and it's on