Godz Gift, Lootpack, Declaime, Medaphoar, Madlib, Oh No, Kazi

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Lootpack were an American hip hop group signed to Stones Throw Records with members Madlib, Wildchild, and DJ Romes. They made their first appearance on the 1993 debut album by Tha Alkaholiks, 21 & Over. more »


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I'm down with all the illest  ain't no crabs all around me 
So put your head together  you still couldn't find me 
Where I be and how I live is ill 

Hey yo  niggas always talkin' bout there shit is real 
"I gotta flex with a Lex in my video" 
That's what half of these rappers be thinking in every city, yo 

Yeah, you want to fight don't ya, you want to bite don't ya? 
The involvement of a new coast is here 
To take your soul, rearrange it with flows 
You're unknown, come across our line, you get blown 
Too many bids, ain't no puttin' together 
Restorin' your body parts, leaving the rest for whatever 

You talking bout you want to freestyle, you want to flow 
But your flow be like oil and water, it don't mix 
And you don't even know you're waiting for your rhyme fix 
But my mind sticks, my rhyme hits, your mind gets 
Amputated, 'cause your style ain't even Hip Hop related 

This be the Kazi, my niggas call me Kaz 
How does it feel to be mixed up and lost? 
First of all, you shouldn't have bit the next rapper 
Now your mind's confused, you lose, talkin' bout you paid dues 

Slay crews, when you ain't even at phase two 
Talking about take two? You only get one take 
Yo, my boys just run fakes, run ya out of my estates 
Plus they just might take ya papes, plus you won't remember no plates 
So don't have no mistakes, steppin' over this way 

Second to last, but not least, hey yo, Kazi's here to rip it 
I'll take MC's, tie 'em up, and then split 
It's like this, yo I'm up on some bliz 
Total techniques for the hip hop kids 

Yo we puttin' the lid on ya, if you're wack you're a goner 
Cause we on a war path, droppin' math 'cause we only want to 
Keep this hip hop real, innovatin' new styles 
Takin' out wack MC's by the piles, for real 

Episode #2: God's Gift 

I have no strings to hold me down
Beware of the Tupperware 
It's the limited edition, prime series hum via tell a sport brain 
Who came complete with all terrain capabilities 
Track trail blazing a path of traveling freely 
Beyond the vanity of border impedance hindering 
Progress intending to enhance those plagued with 
Recessive styles, relying on primal rage 
Disengaged pushing trivial, unimportant material 
Virtually there, but still visually impaired 
Point of views defusing the output of ya outlook 
Confusing ya confidence, 'cause you dwell on surface knowledge 
Dig deeper into my speech or the only way you'll learn 
Is to have a translator explain my rhymes in layman's terms 
We now have confirmation, pure order has swarmed 
Like locusts consuming all vegetation 
Into waste land fills fresh water wells seeping 
Poisonous corrosion as a business proposition 
Exposing flesh in nuclear explosions 
Forming glowing boils at the point of contact of deforming 
The surviving population as mass rotations 
Resulting from advanced hip hop experimentation's 
On the island of Madlib Monroe 
CDP pouring beats down your throat that dissolve your vital organs 

Episode #3: Declaime 

I'm cool with who I be, Lyric slanger from CDP 
Got shit locked up like slaves out at sea 
Ya lost to the way I come across at all costs, I must get mine 
Suck up all the sun rays and then outshine 
Till I blind all eye sights all over the planet 
When I rhyme right, I out stand it 
Cool with my ways, so chilled that most can't stand it 
y'all knows me, the rhyme wise who stays high 
With forty's in my lap bust that old school boom bap 
All over this map, for I be that down ass, South Cali poet, 
Ya know it to be The D-E-see-L-A-I-M-E, 
Doing my thing in this ring 
Knockin' niggas down with what I bring 
Crazy chaos your way off 
So swing ya partners are around 
Do the hump to my sound 
F*ck it, all panties down to ya ankles 
Bending back ass over microphone entangles 
Strangles all ya got chokes like chronic smoke 
I'll take a toke and pass it to all my niggas, 
to all my niggas, take two and pass 

Episode #4: Medaphoar and Oh No 

[Chorus: Medaphoar] 
Everyday it's like a level in this game that we live 
Gotta struggle to survive, that's why some MC's get blitzed 
Situations got your mind in control, that's how you roll 
But don't step to M-E-D, because your rhymes will be fold 

Straight in all black on the attack be Medaphoar so freeze back 
So rappin' imitators get peeled back when I'm in combat 
I got them rhymes to make ya shake the spot when Medaphoar's near 

My rhyme's been set to blow up different spots so MC's stand clear 
I fear no MC's alive because my dangerous rhyme 
Survives battles worldwide, until my cities recognize 
For every rhyme that's built to self destruct three seconds after the buck 
Niggas better duck, or take that risk to get stuck 
It's this do or die mentality that keeps ya mouth frying 
Sippin on the E&J and smoking blunts stuffed with Hawaiian Chronic 
For my homey Shack in SB, rhymes on the shiesty 
Niggas on the run when Medaphoar is on the gun 
MC's out to get me from all of the battles I won 
Med, comin from the west, so represents where I'm from 
Lyrically I got your block locked when I drop this hip hop 
Fresh out the west to twist you up because the rhyme don't stop 


[Oh No]
In this game, I ain't trying to see that wack rhyme bacteria 
That's some next shit, material starts external 
But also interior when y'all frauds claim imperial 
Breaking down your inferior while you listen to your superior 
Some niggas know me as "Oh No" 
But in reverse in ya in the middle, I'm "on ya ho" 
So slow your roll because I fold emcees like rheumatism 
Syndrome and break 'em down like compression when I be up in 'em 
I skip more MC's than scratch compilations CD's 
To have your speech in verbal poetical lyrical oddities 
The heart's cold to make hell freeze, slash hot like a flame 
I spread like dead grass up in the hills so run for your ass 
I'm known as assassin from the west livin' it up 
Kaliwild shakin up the best, messing 'em up 
This nigga's known as metaphor and I be the disrupt 
Vocally tearing you up from the ground up 

Episode #5: Wild Child 

[Chorus: Wild Child]
When you bust that rhythmic freestyle flow to be that abstract 
You bust back flips, lyrically you'll get asked that 
Is y'all crew rally all that when you bump that 
Track by Lootpack, ya like "They off the hook, cat" 

[Wild Child] 
Focus, Wild Child representative of hip hop, top 10 niggas get mopped 10 times 
My rhymes will transform into 30 thin lines 'cause I feep I'm 
The responsible obstacle 
For you non-freestyling MC's kickin' lots of bull 
I rock shit till the Eucalyptus 
Flaunt it like, haunt ya mic to the point ya mic tells you, 
"You can't rip this" I'll get it exited and, get the crowd hyped and 
Slap you up with my right hand and 
Find out you're a little white man with a slight tan 
Wild Child'll take ya ass out like lightning 
Fresh in the flesh, steadily enlightening this mic 
The fact that you lack the respect, got the mad knack of incompetence 
Step to Jack and get smacked to lower your whole lack of confidence 
Ya bro's out there know you have no composure 
You unnoticibly slide to the back of thee 
Open mic session with ya little wack faculty 
Thirty minutes, prior to getting there, claiming you had the knack to be 
The dopest MC, that was the most inactively 
Statement you ever said to Jack, you see 
The day you took hip hop into ya hands was an act of lunacy 
So, if ya feel me, yo if ya feel me, party people say it 
"La La La La", come on, come on, come on, come on... 
my people say "La La La La" 


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Written by: Jack Brown, Romeo Jimenez, Otis jr Jackson

Lyrics © Royalty Network

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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    "Episodes Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 18 May 2022. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/26385307/Lootpack>.

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