beating me
is like doing a wheelie on a horse
all ya rhymes is forced and you on deaths course
i spit with no remorse $hit is perfect like a meal, 3 course
i'm all mentality filled with reality brain capacity of a galaxy
you the earths falicy and you the stillest of all the births
you goin' down easy like millimeter size pills
you do what the wise wills you fake like disguse bills
you got nothin' to counter that would fit
got nothin' on you that would hit
you spittin' good is like someone constipated if they could $hit
i'm bored from you wood spit 'cause their was no good bit
you used to be straight but you got turned like dials
so now you gonna hit the tiles you found in the morg files
Fake ****** get flipped
In mic fights I swing swords and cut clown
$hit is too swift to bite you record and write it down
I flow like the blood on a murder scene, like a syringe
on some wild out $hit, to insert a fiend
But it was yo out the shop stolen art
Catch a swollen heart from not rollin smart
I put mad pressure, on phony madd rapper wack rhymes that get hurt
$hit's played, like zodiac signs on sweatshirts
That's minimum, and feminine like sandals
My minimum table stacks a verse on a gamble
Energy is felt once the cards are dealt
With the impact of roundhouse kicks from black belts
that attack, the mic-fones like cyclones or typhoon
I represent from midnight to high noon
I don't waste ink, ***** I think
I drop megaton BOMBS more faster than you blink
Cause rhyme thoughts travel at a tremendous speed
Clouds of smoke, of natural blends of weed
Only under one circumstance is if I'm blunted
Turn that $hit up, my "Clan in destee" want it
im like hitler on the mic, when i spit i danGer many
write my rhymes on toilet paper, **** my lyrics tear ya *** apart
put a voodoo cuse on a *****
kennedy curse a *****
your madd asss cant hang with me
hookup
is like doing a wheelie on a horse
all ya rhymes is forced and you on deaths course
i spit with no remorse $hit is perfect like a meal, 3 course
i'm all mentality filled with reality brain capacity of a galaxy
you the earths falicy and you the stillest of all the births
you goin' down easy like millimeter size pills
you do what the wise wills you fake like disguse bills
you got nothin' to counter that would fit
got nothin' on you that would hit
you spittin' good is like someone constipated if they could $hit
i'm bored from you wood spit 'cause their was no good bit
you used to be straight but you got turned like dials
so now you gonna hit the tiles you found in the morg files
Fake ****** get flipped
In mic fights I swing swords and cut clown
$hit is too swift to bite you record and write it down
I flow like the blood on a murder scene, like a syringe
on some wild out $hit, to insert a fiend
But it was yo out the shop stolen art
Catch a swollen heart from not rollin smart
I put mad pressure, on phony madd rapper wack rhymes that get hurt
$hit's played, like zodiac signs on sweatshirts
That's minimum, and feminine like sandals
My minimum table stacks a verse on a gamble
Energy is felt once the cards are dealt
With the impact of roundhouse kicks from black belts
that attack, the mic-fones like cyclones or typhoon
I represent from midnight to high noon
I don't waste ink, ***** I think
I drop megaton BOMBS more faster than you blink
Cause rhyme thoughts travel at a tremendous speed
Clouds of smoke, of natural blends of weed
Only under one circumstance is if I'm blunted
Turn that $hit up, my "Clan in destee" want it
im like hitler on the mic, when i spit i danGer many
write my rhymes on toilet paper, **** my lyrics tear ya *** apart
put a voodoo cuse on a *****
kennedy curse a *****
your madd asss cant hang with me
hookup
... please make yourself at home ... 