"El Biba (full)" genre: Hip Hop
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	Not your average track. Starts out with a ill chorus, then straight to a 52 bar verse split between Temper and Dirty, and back to the chorus for the fade out. Its the type of sh*t you either love or hate... but I think yall are gonna love it.
	MP3.com CD: Rap Money - buy it! CD: Rap Money   Label: FL Records Credits: Produced by Robert "Mista Royce" King for Mr. Royce Productions. Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Sean McCoy at Oregon Sound Recording. Lyrics and vocals by Mike Robinson, Temper XL, and Dirty Mendolia for FL Records.
	Story Behind the Song We wanted to do something a little different... "El Biba" is "A Bible" backwards kinda sybolizing how we get our strength from the lord even though we may get a bit too grimmy on tracks. Lyrics Chorus- (Mike Robinson) Wars and rumors of wars is what "El Biba" predicted/ El Biba/ Genocide, hunger, starving women and children El Biba/El Biba Verse- (Temper XL) I'm gonna be like rollin around/ looting and polluting the underground just like Exxon/ suck you muthafuckas dry just to get my check on/ then bounce straight legally/ don't mean that we legit just means we secretly/ got the game on lock underneath them streets is where my people be/ flatline committee be hawking like stalking muthafuckas that's walking often/ fuck jackin' your paycheck/ expect I'll steal your thoughts man/ central intelligence pencil and paper the rest is irrelevant/ element of a criminal mind in due time my rhymes have hella been/ compressed and EQ'ed by tha best in the business witness a test/ of the public bomb blasting system/ invision a schism of threats/ aimed direct at my neck/ been schooled by the best/ been fooled by the worst/ what's worst this verse been permanently repeating in my head since grade first/ a burst of something to bump in tha back of tha trunk leave speakers stunk when/ anno domini got fifteens givin' up outta tha box they jumpin'/ keep frontin' flatline got your city in confusion, losin your function/ a junction between pure genius and the meanest kicking and punching/ at your luncheon fuckin' it up leave um bleeding/ next to the pie pumpkin/ stuck punkin' only thang ya good for busta gangstas still stuck in/ 95' with your name in old english across the back of your Tshirt tucked in/ damn, ya fuckin embarrassing/ kerosine all over your hut/ sin is what we're selling/ telling these kids ideas to turn um to felons/ I'll tell you straight up, us rappers we ain't shit compared to your parents/ you staring in tha wrong direction, need ta give props to your pops/ ya lost, who got you this fuckin album?/ who bought ya shoes and socks?/ not me don't give a fuck about ya/ couple of dollars out ya my only purpose/ confuse tha shit out ya, pair of huggies included with proof of purchase/ its worth it better shut my mouth before my tongue falls out from the fall out/ it's all out or nothin keep bumpin this shit till my eardrums get numb and crawl out/ call out my name in a rhyme/ guaranteed by tha time it hits the press/ the pressure will get to ya/ call up diskmakers and cancel your last payment check too um'/ expectin' um to hate but wait they might just see they're fate and spread um'/ fuck it, this ain't nothin wait for dirty to jump in this booth, dog go get um! Verse- (Dirty Mendolia) Fuck what you represent and stand for/ this is combat, not no hand to hand war/ I squeeze my stainless and leave you brainless/ you see my aim is when I'm rushin I'm bustin'/ leaving you with a concussion/ stomped out something foul and disgusting/ with blood gushin' out your ears/ your worst fears is turned into nightmares/ I'm right here, couldn't you tell by the essence?/ I was standing in your presence?/ long enough to make your hair raise, frozen in place/ with that pail white look on your face/ about to month the black horse/ swinging swords striking down like the lord/ harmonizing with piano cords, with a ill ass force/ blood sweat out my pores/ from the work that I put in/ right to left footin/ fall into step flatlines what I rep until the death/ until they come and take my breath/ until I loose my cool/ I'll pistol whip you off that muthafuckin' bar stool/ and drag you out to the trunk of my car fool/ it ain't that muthafuckin' hard dude/ you get in my fuckin' face ya get beat down like that/ I come with straps/ muthafucka temper xl hold um' down like that. Chorus- Mike Robinson 2x Wars and rumors of wars is what "El Biba" predicted/ El Biba/ Genocide, hunger, starving women and children El Biba/El Biba

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