Studio Recordings
"C.H.A.O.S." "Superflai"
Download the MP3 of C.H.A.O.S Download the MP3 of Superflai


Lyrics by  Rob Wickman

Music by Dave Mason, Rob Wickman, Dave Yeakel, Brian Seay

Background Vocals Frank Torres



Bruthas killin brutha, caint blame it on the mothers

Kill another one in the street, makiní an industry

Of killaz and thieves, I grieve..

What a tangled web we weave

When we practice tactics to distract us

Act the same act as one who attacked us

The lack of a pact, keeps the deck stacked

To kill for the shoe you shoulda been slapped

But instead ya strapped put on the gat, fell into the trap

Then you got smoked from the back, yo black

Kick the facts and the act so the others on the track dont wanna go back

To the way it was, the day it was, when we was..

Nuthin but whores and thugs

To the thief in the nite, the chief of the slight of hand

That rocks the cradle of CHAOS!



C-H-A-O-S! C-H-A-O-S! C-H-A-O-S!

MUÖFUÖis goin off!


I roll to the right, to the left, to the east, to the west

I kick my best to the test I donít fess

I must confess, that I see the stress, of the mess, that we call life

Itís the type that makes me fight on sight, the type that makes me scream all nite

Excitiní, causin riots..yo I just might

Takes somebodyís head to the early morning lite

Livin on the edge YES, caught between a wedge YES, heard what I said YES

Another body in a dredge, NO..youíre not the foe or the Ho..the wack black cat on the minstrel show

But lo, I do regress to my amps

Pumpin out wattage gets your ears up to cramps

Yo gramps, I know you need the pamps

But you never find the kid buyin elvis stamps..that sh** is BOGUS!


Bruthas gonna dis me cause I play to the loud

Other wanna dis me cause Iím too black and proud

Sistas roll their eyes cause I speak the truth

Society wanna jail me, but they got no proof!

Thas what Iím talkin bout, livin on the fringe out

Tell me to calm down, then you got the shout down

Then you got the beat down when I put my feet down

What goes around comes arouuund

Cause madness in effect, yo it aint no joke

System in effect designed to keep you broke

Now Iím done talkin, itís time for walkin

I leave you Home Alone like McCauley Caulkin

I be back for ya, cant forget I saw ya,

My communityís a mess..JUST LOOK AT LATOYA!

And so my society, donít even lie to me, donít even cry for me

I turn the tide..ON CHAOS..!!



Lyrics by Jay Hartling, Dave Mason, Rob Wickman

Music by Jay Hartling, Dave Mason, Rob Wickman, Dave Yeakel, Brian Seay



Run when the run, one says they come

To the one with the juice and too hype for some

One with the plan you must understand

Some with the brutha and some with the man

Some takin hit sand some passin the bowl

Watchin Mr. Cooper but without the soul

Nerve to be talkin bout the booty donít stink

Long as she blonde, booty straight pink

Iím down wit the sistas, Iím down wit the rhyme

Gimme Keri Hilson [Phillys Hyman] yo Iím down wit the crime

I show all suckas, still they resist, I speak my mind then they get pissed at me..  I can't deal

Punks be rollin when the rhyme gets real

I scream it loudly so my stuff gets heard

Word is bond.. bond is my word!



I got it!

Itís Back, itís Black, itís a Superflai attack!

I got it!

Itís Back, itís Black, itís a Superflai attack!

Livin on the edge, kickin all the facts!


The people gonna trip, my mind starts to rip

Madness in effect, yo I got hip..

To the games you play, the things you say, the way you playíem

Get out my way..uhhm

Itís just a game yo, itís just a shame yo

You bitchin and missin just to be dissin the sameí ol

n-i-double gís you know..the ones with the x-caps buckles and beads

cause, I roll on the real tip..I listen to Q-tip

Scenario is rap but we bussin a rock-tip

I get witíem real quick, the bomb go tick-tick

Oreo cookie you makin me sick-sick

I get wit the people whoís speakin for real

The ones wit the heart, soul, style and feel

So when you stepped up, most got swept up,

the ones that crept up had to get messed up!



listen up people and dont forget my swag

go teachers / one union / I salute the flag.

red white and blue can we all get along.

tea party lib party all gotz to sing my song

sitting their debating ideology thoughts

but what truly drives policy are the ones who can be bought

slave-like by the master / spin zones like da factor

another chapter of the rapture and you gonna get caught

young blood priest can you please explain to me

why media always showin the throws of misery

earthquakes and tsunamis straight destroying your town

unemployment gas prices and neither goin down

walking down the street, why does B get judged?

Aint a damn thang changed / sport locks / deal drugs

Until things chill we gonna party like the eighties

Letís rock this joint like prince go crazy




Now you heard the brutha speakin and the bottom bass be peekin

When the tweeters start to tweekin mostly havoc I be reekin

And Iím seekin, freekin, on the ourt Iím freeky-deekin

Livin so free, every day I live a weekend,

But Iím chillin, willin I know you tried to see me

Iím chillin, Iím grillin, I know you tried to be me

Aint no use in steppin when they tried to seize me

Poppin that bull crap is what they tried to feed me,

So we ripíem and tripíem and kickíem yo I aint trippin

Rippin and flippin you know you let me play you like Pippen

I pull for the bulls I run wit the suns I pop my phrases but I aint the one

To be played slayed traded or faded out check it

D and Rage on the mic as we wreck it

A Superflai theory a style or a method

When the beats be pumpin just remember who said it!


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