(Mike N.O.T.E.S)

Checkmate - death move
Duct tape - Med School
My intentions usually the best cool
Candyman, Candyman, Candyman - Dead Pool
Mike N.O.T.E.S from the way of the black powder
Lights out, then it's red soup, clam chowder
Fuck armies - pieces of a man power
Left on a beach like a war-time sand shower
Killing is, whatever the killer does
Eyes be the last thing I get a vision of
Well, either that or the cylinder
Dex Starks dreams, I'm the passenger visitor

(Ed Ward)

SpaceLAB live by the code, we like the Mafia
Loose lips sink ships, so we gon' have to body ya
25th Hour, I levitate & I win chips
I need closure? The goons come for the witness
Brains on your briefcase, told you to mind your business
Black Ops shit, the shottie's out with the kickstand
We in the desert, your body's out by the quicksand
Full Metal Jacket, the slacks over the wing-tips
Contract killer - I don't need cash
Probably notice me with shades over my ski mask
We in all black, at your funeral
God hates ugly, so killing you is beautiful

(C-Zar Van Gogh)

Like Buffalo, I'm f*****g cold
I'm up to no good till I double dough
Like two hand-tossed pizzas, R&B flea-flickers
Cause we hand-toss diva's
Ceez is
Banging through your speakers like a reason
And you need to put it in your vein like a needle
I'm flyer than a plane, I'm sharper than a pencil
Now why I need a plane when I can do it in a rental?
Call the coroner up, drew you up a stencil
Then a n***a dipping like I'm Orenthal Simpson
Hand dripping, and I'm limping like I did it
Start the Bronco up, then I light me up a Benson

(Jake Palumbo)

Special O.P.S., obnoxiously noxious
Preposterous posse songs, dog - we got this
Popping bottles on a Gaza Strip couch, man
I raise Rambo's, call me Colonel Troutman
Howitzer shells to the dome of this business
Guns of The Navarrone, sickle-cell sickness
My dick trickle? Chick, you'll be swimming with fishes
I ain't afraid of shit, I got God on speed-dial
Meanwhile, back at the ranch
With a half-pound of hash
And that's just your president's personal stash
The national currency is SpaceLAB Cash
Which is vinyl LP's and Armenian ass

(Ciphurphace)

Welcome to the wonderful rap game!
James is the first & Ciphurphace is the last name
Went from Sun Tran to the PATH Train
Still smacking wack rappers that act lame
Cause they come a dime a dozen
Inclined to frontin'
Every line they're bluffing, claiming their nine's are busting
I should be signed, or something
My rhymes are crushing
My mind's accustomed to formulate divine rhyme production
Listen here, shit-for-brains
I could care less about your Twitter name
Administer so much punishment to wack rappers
They call me Mr. Pain
Your crew's a bunch of squares like picture frames
SpaceLAB murdering your whole squad's how you get your fime

(Mo Kofuma)

No time for that misery stuff
Get these n****s out my face 'fore they get Hilary Duffed
SpaceLAB - when we done, yeah we gonna have a monument
Putting in so much work, n****s thinking we Communists
New disease - call it Emcee Strain
Voices automatically in tune, call me T-Pain
Flow water, I don't even need rain
PSP in my back pocket, always bring game
Yeah I'm on the rise, call me King James
No baby boy, n****s call me Ving Rhames
Yeah we vultures
Teams spit cannons and we cultured
Mighty healthy like a cup of Dannon
Ya dig? No Yoplait.