The microphone molester
Machete Undresser
Stupid dope fresh tight shit resurrecter
Top gun, Miramar, best of the bester
Leaving emcee's in peace and rester
Skill tester, the flex, the gunner
The make funner
the adversary make runner
Make summer cold with rhymes I spit
Kick a gift to a delinquent wit
I be the prophet in my hands
top it stop it
feel like Rocky when I rock it
Locked it down with this perverse verse
Every fucking curse a burst of hurt
Move crowds with physical fitness rhymes
Coke heads couldn't do my lines
I'm decorated like Christmas pines
My battalion rocks
Emcee's become silhouettes in chalk
Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
Losing my pride will save it in many days
Hit the dirt
Because the words I spit
will do more than just rip your shirt
I'll bitch slap your soul
contact the track control
You coming at me
and cant hack it though
So ridiculous
Watching my crew get sick with this Wickedness,
Pitch in this Lyrical viciousness
Of crews and cliques,
Made of men, and mistresses
This is my life;
The twilight and fight night
And trying to see nothing but the highlights when I write
These eyes on horizons,
die for my song,
cry rhymes in Krylon
Fire on, move men telekinetically
Esoterically beats become a clarity
Feel my verities heroism and heracy
And severe every emcee
I see with severity
Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
Losing my pride will save it in many days
Why not...
What I came...
Why not...
What I came...
Why not...
What I came...
Why not give me what I came to deserve
Why not give me what I came to believe
Why not give me what I came to deserve
Why not give me what I came to believe
Pride
Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
Losing my pride will save it in many days