[Intro]
(Go in!)
[Verse 1: Chokeules]
(Let's go!)
Throw a quarter in the slot
Cause the force up north of the border's getting hot
Ready for it or not, Steady blowing up spots
Four corner of the globe, the burner's stirring the pot
Emergancy broadcast, stunners on face
We're making your broads toss their undies on stage
Tom Jones,
head honchos of the Gong Show
Laying down tracks, Halifax to Toronto
In the booth, I'm a killer like John Wilkes
Run it like Kim, Campbell, Mitchell or Jong-il
Unreal so you end up dumbstruck
Choke's doing shrooms just to get the 1-up
Cameo bros, hit pipes, collect coins
Saving the game, like we reached a checkpoint
Export skills, let's join the sideshow
Live shows with the sickest freaks that I know
[Verse 2: Wordburglar]
I got a wait problem, I'm impatient
So I keep it moving and pumping like gym stations
You been waiting for the new, and here it is
So clear the skids for the lyricist for you peasant kids
Appearing at the the pyramids,
riddle me this
Who's sick with this,
like a sniffling Mister Mxyzptlk
Chilling and grilling, some fiddleheads and some fiddlesticks
Ripping with the homies, taking out a little piss
Don't get it twisted kid, about the flows and jokes, you know me!
Got nothing but love for all the love you show me
Backburner! No rubber masks, just love for raps
And floating dope, like hovercrafts covered in grass
[Chorus]
It's the P-H-A-N-T-O-M!
It's the P-H-A-N-T-O-M!
It's the P-H-A-N-T-O-M!
It's the G-H-O-S-T, go in!
It's the P-H-A-N-T-O-M!
It's the P-H-A-N-T-O-M!
It's the P-H-A-N-T-O-M!
It's the G-H-O-S-T, go in!
[Verse 3: Mister E]
Yo, it's the big coffin , Hunter S. Thompson
Gozo with a strong wind, I return the second I'm called in
Murder relief pitcher, but once I'm in the game it's clear
It's hard to step to me, like you walking with feet blisters
My pixelated vision fits the integrated rhythms
Vice-Versa switching than I syncopate the system
Verse of vice, try to spit the verses nice
As all of my peers so I can get accustomed to this Backburner life
We keep keeping on, rap marathons, steez
Be continuous, not equipped with a pause screen
I grab mics, like I'm on my last life
Trying to put the final boss in the coffin, goodnight!
[Verse 4: Timbuktu]
This is that showdown, you know,so
Remember the Alamo
Those Backburner bros
Known to be infallible
Baffle any battle-drones, smash with the palindrome
How powerful, these raps explode, like guns in Avarone
It's mathematical, we pack the saddle dome
Crowd go bananas, cold-crack your cantaloupe
Smash grand pianos, and jam the manifold
These mad men and and animals, adequate with ample flow
Meet your maker, the death panel anecdote
We feed the aligators with scraps of rapper's stealing quotes
It's apropos that we lead them tho the land below
We're savage, blow the (?), cabbage open, now the (?), yo!
[Verse 5: More or Les]
Lyrical Nintendo Power Glove.
Punch!
Number of styles I have's a number that you can't crunch
Need 25 accountants from the (?) watching this
Start to rule over, when he's on the track , rocking the (?)
Shaped like a Tardis,
more in me than you saw on the outside
Your opinion's that I'm a nerd? Well, then you're half right
My R&D - Research and Development
Are sunken to this trash and cashing to control for elements
