Company flow was a New York based hip hop group, consisted of El-P, Bigg Ju… Read Full Bio ↴Company flow was a New York based hip hop group, consisted of El-P, Bigg Jus and DJ Mr. Len. Their 1997 debut album Funcrusher Plus is often cited as the catalyst for the new type of underground hip-hop scene that emerged in the late nineties. A Co Flow collaboration with Juggaknots and J-Treds appeared in 1998 under the name Indelible MC's and was featured on the Lyricist Lounge comp.
The group disbanded in 2000 after Bigg Jus had left in 1999. As a duo, El-P and Mr. Len released another instrumental album called Little Johnny From the Hospitul, after which each of the elements pursued their solo projects, El-P expanding the roster of his label Definitive Jux and Mr. Len giving life to Dummy Smacks Records.
Bigg Jus started up the label Sub Verse Music which temporarily became a distributing point of conscious, independent hip hop. Currently Jus is living in Atlanta, having released several solo and collabo records.

In 2007, the two Co Flow lyricists temporarily re-joined on stage at the CMJ Music Festival in New York. The 10 year anniversary re-issue of Funcrusher Plus, to appear on Def Jux (and for which Co Flow were supposed to be recording new material) has been delayed.

8-Steps To Perfection
Company Flow Lyrics

Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴

Rugged like Rwanda, don't wind up far or get chopped up
Quick to rush the spot like baby urine get mopped up
Tags that spray your hall with rap aerosol
Organized graffiti lectures on can control
Or level with the devil racing uptown first to Fort Apache
I'm much too much for any demon style to master me
From the thought's next to the hell's gate, lyrically detonating
Sparking M-80's and bottle rockets it's a nigga chaser

Downtown graffiti deface a heroin debaser
Open up your eyes and clean out your nature
Wide open like the grand canyon
Emcees couldn't hang if they was lynched by the Grand Dragon
Searching for my style like Job-Corps
Coming home on work release shoplifting at the rap store
But sabotaging me ain't easy
I'm crooked like Nathan Wick starring as Cochese
With a big baseball bat you get robbed like DeNiro
A sandwich still ain't nothing but a hero
Just a small sample of the abstract
When the rhyme gets crazy hot and lyrics don't know how to act
Whether shooting joints or wax
I go all out and attack crabs and herbs that's crazy wack
We all can't be pimps, and we all can't rap
You got to get your dollars on cause it's on like that
Here's what I want you to do
Niggas with the green axe and burgundy Forerunner, inhuman like Blade Runner
When I'm rhyming all summer just listen to the drummer
Transistor blister feedback freak the impeders
Funk flow we expose frequencies in sequence
Napalm gets dropped long range like fiber optics
Check the rhyme activity your skills is microscopic
Peace to my crew and my nigga El-P
Who's here to spark it causing all these crabs to flee

Two: El-P

Check it and I inflict it quattro nine fifty lungs misty
Color me Maxmillian cause I'm that crazy robot
Teetering on the edge of outer space
Spitting buckshots till black holes surround me, you found me
As far as I'm concerned I've got your ashes in an urn
Big up, the temperamental hold none barred kid
What's your confunction? Tracks is type dusty
Drinking water out the well of life and I'ma piss it back rusty
Flesh and phonics, you're god damned right
I'm on 'em like aeorta pacemakers hooked up to clappers
Clap OFF (*clap clap*) welcome to my free-form jubilee, look at me
The witness to the shit you wanna be
DBA lyrical P known as a simp and I'm a sycophant
Feeding on fats passed and dipped
In and out of my invisible state
Forerunner rep tyrannical
Wrecks like tecs bust mechanical
Rusty goner weasel painting beats on an easel
Shoot a head up, what bitch you're boxing shadows
Look out my way you pull your breath out to battle
Breaking your double helix, and now the shit is single
Not mono, I burn the needle out your vinyl
El-P the third gunner on the grassy knoll
Stroll, keep the seventh seal of heaven in my pocket
You're faggot like sprockets, motherfuck the Houston Rockets
I'm so sick of recycled metaphors
Bet but I'd fuck Laura Ingalls only when she's done with her chores
Got rappers tip toeing on a Highway to Heaven
Got manners like Bruce Banner when he's stressed
I'm sick of your corny beats and your crowd-involved hooks
Cause I'm a thinker
Evil anus letting off stinkers

BJ Eight steps to perfection
The sum of each part forms an octagon
Let rhyme styles get sparked

EP Eight stpes to perfection
The sum of each part forms an octagon
Where rhyme styles get sparked

Three: Bigg Jus

The holy terror, last move you made cos

Overall Meaning

the flow was too real
You attempted to recognize confusion but its too chill
Shine like the northern star, rhyme travelin' far
Risk enormous, leave a man's mind distorted
Claustrophobic on this mic, in your eardrum I'll clear a room
Find a broom, then sweep up left brain, right brain
Up, down, the chain reaction to the untouchable
Force, I'm five foot nine
Out to destroy nine out of ten, my brain is denied of turpentine
Take ten steps back and approach
Destroyin' MC's as I teach and be anti-coach
Who am I? Who am I? Bigg Jus, the imprint's still alive
Punch that smirk off your face, hit the dirt, and liquefy
A culture shock beyond your wildest dreams
My only competition is myself, perfected cream