Released: July 30, 2002
Featuring: Black Thought
Songwriter: Linkin Park Black Thought
Producer: Sean C Roc Raida
[Intro: Chester Bennington]
From the top, from the top
From the top, from the top
From the top, from the top
From the top, from the top
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up! (When I'm talking to you!)
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
I'm about to...
Wasn't that fun? Let's try something else
[Verse: Black Thought]
Forty-five caliber killer, but out of the Phila-
-dela thriller show you brothers how you not a guerilla
Smooth talkin', fully automatic weapon concealer
Taste thriller, great fillers, hit 'em with the bounce filler
Filthy stinkin', standin' on solid ground and still be sinkin'
Submergin' in the Parks and still be Linkin
Pluck beef when it starts, but fuck your thinkin'
It's not a mirage
I rip the motherfuckin' track up from out the garage
Where I'm hip to the duck, but it's hard to dodge
In the back of that spine where my darts is lodged
Thought flippin' straight up, rippin' apart your squad
X-Ecutioner style, that cuts and blends
Like a syringe, we bangin' you in each of your limbs
See me comin' through your party hard, without no bodyguard
Smokin' somethin', stompin' on each of your Timbs
I'm the B to the L, the A, the C-King (uh huh..)
And when it comes to plannin' the Thought, keep thinkin' that
[Outro: Chester Bennington]
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
From the top, from the top
From the top, from the top
From the top, from the top
From the top, from the top
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up! (When I'm talking to you!)
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
I'm about to...
Wasn't that fun? Let's try something else
[Verse: Black Thought]
Forty-five caliber killer, but out of the Phila-
-dela thriller show you brothers how you not a guerilla
Smooth talkin', fully automatic weapon concealer
Taste thriller, great fillers, hit 'em with the bounce filler
Filthy stinkin', standin' on solid ground and still be sinkin'
Submergin' in the Parks and still be Linkin
Pluck beef when it starts, but fuck your thinkin'
It's not a mirage
I rip the motherfuckin' track up from out the garage
Where I'm hip to the duck, but it's hard to dodge
In the back of that spine where my darts is lodged
Thought flippin' straight up, rippin' apart your squad
X-Ecutioner style, that cuts and blends
Like a syringe, we bangin' you in each of your limbs
See me comin' through your party hard, without no bodyguard
Smokin' somethin', stompin' on each of your Timbs
I'm the B to the L, the A, the C-King (uh huh..)
And when it comes to plannin' the Thought, keep thinkin' that
[Outro: Chester Bennington]
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
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