I spit like me and Earl was blood brotherly, my style above fugly, gloves snuggly in the
ass of one of these thugs lovely, one of the illest still dirtin' maggots and bugs cover
me, fuck him or kill him, make your brain cradle or slug clutterly, give a fuck, if
you mix paper what, put your money where your mouth is, and I show you a dick with a bad
case of paper cuts, overnight supposed to be, raise your cup close to me, a house shittin'
to the mixed borders, covered in upholstery, fuckin' kids behind these bars like Oz's
McManus, verbally that mannish, you at a disadvantage, rather a Mike or a Gat Brandish, when I'm
done wettin' shit, niggas'll think they died and woke the fuck up in Atlantis, you who
writes terror, flow a nightmare, report more hoes than cops to no niggas during the civil
rights era, some of you fab Mike niggas ain't worth the price of the magazine, no nights
as you faggots seen, I wear my hatred on both sleeves, nikes and baggy jeans, when you fuckin'
witness past life used to ghostwrite for the Christ of the Nazarene, so you fuck even if
the apostle's with you, so blow me with a coffee straw until my nostrils whistle, rock
to the kill, this is your brain on skill, shittin' point blank aim on grids, what the
f*ck y 'all feel, y 'all niggas can play sick, we can all get ill, what, rock to the kill,
this is your brain on skill, shittin' point blank aim on grids, what the fuck y 'all feel,
y 'all niggas can play sick, we can all get ill, oh shit, the creek too thick for y 'all
to paddle up it, for the battle of it, I'ma shine bright enough that hence God can do
shadow puppets, authoring the most vicious verses in which to surface, whether my style
bites or switches versa, heaven sent with malicious purpose, well known to lyrically
come through in a clutch like paranoid white bitches' purses, none of you semi -hard niggas
want any pride with the flow, give me God to bow your head with a Philly nod and give
me knob, I shit it on the faces of millions, smoke so many brain cells, check my urine
sample and find traces of brilliance, I used to love her, now she gettin' a hysterectomy,
bad -handed cause too many niggas hittin' it was misdirectin' me, disrespectin' me, had
me thinkin' she was all innocent while she castin' images of Miss Projectory, now I'm
writin' shit that's gon' fuck up y 'all, understand it like a sniper with a good aim and bad piss
trajectory, been datin' this rap shit my whole life, before I decided to make the whole wife,
put a low -price engagement ring on her finger with no ice, that'll make her most shite,
ungrateful bitch, you want some damage, you better go heist, fuck you, blow twice, you
only lovin' me because of my doggy style and the fact that a nigga can flow nice, and right
after we finish exchangin' our vows before Christ, I move to a full slight, and the first
motherfucker that throw rice, I'm more than quite foul, I write styles to raise gang's
ass, cats and eyebrows, lighters to blaze white eyes, and when I finish shittin', fuck tissue,
they got the sky hard enough, you literally see skid marks on white clouds, prepare for
the truth to surface, I'm a sniper spittin' off the roof of churches, your bulletproof
is worthless, and those that wanted to freestyle, go buy my tape twice, and get a free dick in your
mouth with two proofs of purchase, vod to the kill, this is your brain on skill, shittin' point -blank
aim on grids, what the fuck y 'all feel, y 'all niggas can play sick, we can all get ill, what,
vod to the kill, this is your brain on skill, shittin' point -blank aim on grids, what the fuck
y 'all feel, y 'all niggas can play sick, we can all get ill, come on
