Paris is my name, I flows with ease
Cash checks, breaks necks and wreck MC's
Who ain't down with the sound of the Panther Movement
Intense is a serious answer
The mic goes into labor, you freeze up
Enveloped by the style that sounds so rough

Once again, my friend, I try
To help improve another brother's life
By coming through with the righteous groove
Tell right from wrong, makes people move
Not idiot cross-over songs that appeal to all
And make you sing along, no
This one is for the chosen few
Who wanna buildin' up, lift my people too, so
Listen to the words I speak
Cause the words are true and truth's what I teach
By talking about the things that I see
When talking about this color called ebony

Again I start this, but I’ll add a new twist
So the masses can’t resist
The message brought by a Panther strictly
To relieve the disease of the sickly
So long your mind’s been trapped
Slave, cause you’re shamed to be black
Ignorant of the purpose of the
Plan to keep the black man down under

Here I go, an angry brother finna make his move
Lookin’ to buck him in the city so I never lose
See I’m get him in the crowd with a couple heavies
And lay the barrel to the ground, hold the gat steady
And now I’m ready for my adversary, talk is cheap
I’m lookin’ for a way to make a play and keep it neat

Brethern heed the call of enlightenment
Of truth, Asiatic discipline’s frightenin’
To some who act dumb embraced by decadence
The weak in the wake of true black militants
Hear the call and all heed the savior
Praise Allah cause in his energy made ya
The cream, Asiatic earth-born manchild
Freedom’s comfort for some but meanwhile
Young brothers just don’t realize
Cocaine’s the plan, the devil derived

As I flow, into the rhyme much smoother
I keep the pace and add bass for you to
Be able to experience the strength of God
On your tape with a break that I make to part
The weak-kneed hippie MC's and wannabees
From the Dog, so they can’t see me
I’m movin’ swifter with the gift to lift ya

Here it comes, I’m P-Dog with the sh**
That stick, now I’m finna get scandalous, huh
And tell y’all about a brain disease
A act up, it’s a shame disease
Ni*** please, ya still don’t act right, oops
Wait a minute lemme get my facts right
When I say that we all don’t act the same
Just a handful wanna salt the game

We come back to the days of - grenades up
Black fist raised up - we stay rough
Come this way cause - the game fu**ed
Can’t stay away from - the main stuff

What I wrote, is no joke, there's no hope
It's too dope, you're gettin' broke by a cutthroat
While bein' killed is the price you're billed
There's no time to rhyme and no time to build

Enter into a new round and new dimension
Pay close attention
And witness knowledge born on the microphone
For the people that I call my own
Remember back when good rap was just a cool dance
And even though I wasn't saying tihs
But them days is gone I don't play that
Pick the punk and I'll say like wack
Stick with the six-tie for the serious
Hiphop lovers can't get enough of this

And see and when the free labor play out, I'd let it go
But only after I made enough to control
Then I'd tell em that the Afterlife is better than this
And that they should love their enemies when faced with contempt

I remember how it started, remember the time
I was watchin’ Rap City ‘bout a quarter to nine
Commercial said the military givin’ money for school
Caught the bus up to my campus - they was signin’ recruits
And met this dude named Diablo, was some kinda vet
He explained the situation, told me what to expect
He said, "We’ll help you pay for college - and train you for work"
Said I could take computer classes and could quit if I want
But best of all was the fact I’d - have my own sh**
I’d have my own space and have my own place to kick it
On top of that I’d travel - and visit the world
Hell, Diablo said the women overseas was the pearl

Too many sounds irritatin' my earholes
Like planet rock beats from L.A ho's
The same old thing, same old sh**, I'm tired
Who's once on a payroll about to be fired
Black radio shame, pop-rap's to blame
Program your playlist, the sound's the same
With the disco-tempo, cliché-intro
Wack rap tracks for commercial shows
Mindless music for the masses
Have to take time away from the real rap master

Finna roll to the party, still in demand
Troopin’ thicker than a ball team, packin’ the van
Always movin’ as a unit every brother stands strapped
But still we got enough sense to never bust 'em too fast
And now I'm runnin’ a roll call, startin' with D
Big Doc and Yon, K-Cloud and E
Young Bob, Rich, Oz and my man A.B.
And can't forget Big Gene, still keepin’ the peace
Rollin’ stones still rollin’ on our way to the club
Every spot that we step into showin' nothin’ but love