'bout to drop this right now for you, the original suntoucher

Lettin' you know, what's up. goes like this...

We're about to put it on you right here right now, let you know, how it goes down

And this is, this is what it is...

It's the urban organic mic mechanic

Super-human mc powers help me fly around the planet

Touch the microphone device, whole countries get frantic

Saving damsels in distress so young girls don't panic

Putting mcs under pressure till they crack like ceramic

Always thought they could flow but sink like the titanic

Rhymes rip through your skull like icebergs through the hull

Survive the impact and arctic cold freezes your soul

Create a new style, then break the mold

Compositions are controlled and liable to explode

Like land mines, my crew blows through like wind chimes

Make it hot like fire, 200 proof like moonshine

Risky, playing yourself is risky

And the flows mad jazzy like dizzy gillespie

And the sound be harmonious and deadly

Like a harpy, call me the big one like wayne gretzky

No man can test me, so why try?

Focus like a samurai, stronger than a maitai

Or a tsunama, I mean tsunami

I rock it from mtv, to the bbc

Radioactive waves short out your tv

Aliens check it for me in the next galaxy

Put it in a time capsule till the next century

In a black out use it for electricity

Danger, high voltage, don't feed me their daily dosage

I break it down mathematically, 99.9 is the percentage

Like closing fine wine the rhymes are vintage

And the universal will gives me strength like spinach

With dinage, I eat it like a tofu sandwich

With cabbage, I ask your girl, she knows that I'm not the average

Nigga, who claims to pull the trigga'

Reality's the root of the rhymes that I configure

Phony... baloney, swear like don corleone

But when shit hit the fan they start crying like pretty tony

Tender like roni... but wish to be bad like bobby

Been there, done that, smashed up, rockin' rhymes is my hobby

You're probably like, what's he on

Cause I rock it from the start, till the beat is gone

Not in the mafia but I'm the microphone don

And the words that I shoot out my mouth are teflon

Jeru never touch ya, microphone wrecka'

Meet out in the stretcha', step up in my center

Try to match wits but the mental will crush ya

Jeru the damaja, the suntoucher.

Peace...

Yeah, this is it right here, how we' flowin down...