Artist: The Last Emperor 
Album:  Fo'rel/Heavyweight Invincible/The Dozen 12" 
Song:   Heavyweight Invincible 
Typed by: Lives4Cal@aol.com 

[Verse 1]
If I could be invincible, I'd greet competition with rage 
Do work and go berserk when I'm rip'n the stage 
Ignite'n and write'n rhymes in so a ridiculous age 
Lets 'face off' like Travolta verses Nicolas Cage 
Ah shucks, y'all finally got me to talk'n tough 
Ready to bust these suckers that constantly bother us 
Oh yes, just when all you thought was hopeless 
One man fights back on behalf of the oppressed 
And I'm so fresh- many say like Timothy McVeigh I blow sects 
Don't believe me now, you'll go test and get your flow stretched 
Take'n all threats and bets- double or noth'n I can match that 
And bast raps- turn your Land Cruiser into a hatchback 
But that's just the start of it, a small part of it 
My rhymes are known to crack bones- rip through your cartilage 
You don't want no part to this 
When I start charge'n and barge'n in the hard way 
I bring the butter, the (parquet ?) and the margarine 
Two minutes past disaster, argue'n with the master 
What I spit is combined with the same climate of Alaska 
After I drop Anchorage, my language is filled with anguish 
Breaking kids with their own songs like Weird Al Yankovich 
Spin a web of deception and the best can't untangle it 
Bang'n like only the Mandu, like only I can do 
I'd like to live but my homies don't live in Landview 
After years of jam'n, they're cram'n to understand you 
We're go'n to war 'coz poor people need a champ too 

Chorus 

[Verse 2]
Invincible, we're genetically engineered 
When I see emcees battle and expect me to interfere 
Listen here- this rap game is child's play like hopscotch 
Traveling at the slow speed of a fox-trot, on my block 
We accelerate and celebrate when a cop's shot 
For not give'n us the chance to (lamp like flave?) with a stopwatch 
And block shots with just seconds on the shot clock 
Send away for my album deal with three cereal box tops 
I rock spots and never forfeit a battle on some (extortion?) 
Brothas couldn't get the picture if they ran out and bought it 
Its a small eight by ten, but I turn it into a portrait 
Make it rough enough to force Timberland to endorse it 
Kill it with no remorses, the original, the liver-race 
Interfaced with the internet and even flip rhymes in cyberspace 
Nightmare on emcee part 5, cut like sharp knives 
You've got enough rhymes to fill books- I'm fill'n libraries and archives 
Though art wise like (Celaste?) for try'n to gas me 
I gets nasty on the mic and battle for fame like Bug's and Daffy 
While you live trice- I give life to the dead and make the corpse bleed 
Flip raps you couldn't catch if you had your engine set a warp speed 
To hell with the money and the fame 
Watch me take you out your game 
Its the young Jedi that Yoda forgot to train 
If I park it- its not turn'n, once I spark it- I leave it burn'n 
Emcees better start learn'n- I diss more brothas than Mark Fuhrman