[Intro] Big Zoo, uh Technique, uh Positive balances, uh, uh
[Verse 1 - Big Zoo] Pound for pound I'm the most positive when I bust mine The Zoo adds on like a plus sign Addition, that's the key in the ignition With no pause, I propel to pole position (Vroom!) Ahead of the pack, light years ahead of the wack I give a fiend a Good Book, instead of the crack That's the gold mine, negativity can't hold mine The black bear's headed for the gold mine (look out, look out) And then I'm positive as Showtime I make negative MC's switch styles in no time They change teams, rhyme about kings and queens Instead of how they sellin' work to fiends Then I, switch thugs into soldiers Those that have given up on God to praise J Hova (Damn!) The rap Ice Age is over And positivity protects the Z boulder boulder
[Chorus - Immortal Technique w/ Big Zoo ad-libs] Yeah, you know how it goes, positivity, yeah My opinion is solid ground but your a common hater Splitting and dividing on numbers like a denominator Third-eye navigator movements are necessary Everything you see in videos is secondary You need positivity like you need respect in jail Because without balance you'll be making negative record sales Neg-neg-negative record sales, ziga-zam, Technique, like this
[Verse 2 - Immortal Technique] I jerk off inside books and give life to words Leaving concepts stuck together you probably never heard (what?) I love when people think I'm psychologically disturbed Cause it means I overloaded their neurological nerves Rappers try to serve me with disgusting incompetence But I keep it positive with ultimate dominance Meditating with Native Americans close to Providence I speak to the spirits of ancestors at pow-wows But rumor has it that you getting raped like Lil' Bow Wow Now listen industry motherfuckers, don't get offended Remember, that I'll bring an end to your pretender agenda And render contenders dismembered, bend the fabric of time (what? what?) And put your soul in a blender You living a lie like thinking Jesus was born in December Instead of catering to labels, something gotta give I'll rip the electrons out your body and make you positive I seen a lot of kids come and go with marketing gimmicks Because without balance, you don't last more than a minute This ain't a game, I'll beat the shit out you at the line of scrimmage I rock shows in the ghetto, nigga you stuck in the village I wanted to spit on the radio since I was eleven But I can't afford the pay-ola for Hot 97's So I make paper underground, and I'm soon to blow Moving tapes like Biggie's ghost at Bad Boy studios