Intro:
You better recognize what. Snatch your
fuckin' head from your neck. Word
up it's the cold blooded sin. Strictly
murder. Legion of Doom 94. Word 'em
up this is how we do that shit. Techs to
your record son. Shit. Fuck that
shit. Word 'em up that how we're always been.

50 Grand:
Yo check it, I feel the vibe like Shanet(?)
Collaborate on niggas brains and bend you ass like a Sensei
My death sentence is danger
I black out like Joel Rifken
niggas hittin' the floor like the chamber
The sick authorist transmits for no repent
And activate the plan like Pentagon intelligence
So listen close like musical chairs
The L.O.D. is deep then the niggas Under The Stairs
I craft million dollar script like an architect
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 jugulars
Twistin back caps for all you motherfuckers
Walk the bloody streets with 19 shots in the Luger
Niggas be scared to face 50 Grand like Medusa
The shit I produce is like gin and juice when it blend
Seems like Toni Braxton you'll Never Breath Again
I rhyme without ability to reason, niggas is guilty of treason
Who's to blame but the Legion to the Doom

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

Ron Jay:
Ron Jay go the wickedest mystic majestic flow
From a homicidal clique, Yo E make that psychopathic mix
I hits put a hex on that shit
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
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/2NE2Electronic Million Dollar Man the mic bionic
So you can feel it in your nerves when I
blast off into the suburbs
Conduct like lightning, electrifying words
I freak to them suicidal tracks, break backs
Niggas scared fakin' fuckin' heart attacks
"Ooooooooh!!!" when I'm comin' through the crowd
Niggas want static yo I got the gun pazoow, wizoow, word up

50 Grand:
I got the slaughter for your brains drive you insane
Fuck that shit

News Interlude

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

Outro:
Yo 40 dreams and blunts for witches. Yeah
that's what we got for them
niggas. 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 niggas man.
A-yo put your money where your
mouth is at nigga yeah. I have you rockin'
dazie dukes and Reebok pumps
nigga yeah, yeah. L.O.D. style for 94 yeah and it's on