The Song ItselfSick rhyme spitta, Hot nine grippa
I feed the block but I'm not a pie fippa
I desire scrilla, after mines well I'll kill a
Rapper who go figure I ain't a rappin' gorilla
Uh, Re-enter the reaper, move like a cheetah
Smooth, swift, and deadly as consuming ether
You'll never meet a, rapper who do it better
Actors ain't as clever, smacked or they get wet up
Never but as long as the pens my weapon
Watch yourself like women who high heel steppin'
Reppin' two states like me, Not quite likely
Put them both on my back still look like I take it lightly
Like Nike I been had my product in check
Your pen, ain't got you the amount of ten cents yet
Not an accdent, but ask around I wreck
My flow will end up drowning your whole dang set
Just wanna sit down writing Me, the pen, and the paper
Add a mic, a few fans and subtract the haters
I'ma keep spitting, till I get up my paper
Put a fence around my flow like biters are neighbors
Never get it twisted, I ain't raps savior son
Get cash, spit rhymes, all while having fun
Is my aim, however long my career run
But, True to this culture until the day I'm done
That tingle in your spine, effects of rhymes
For a mastermind who might be ahead of time
Many grains in the hourglass, who'll die when the hour pass
Signaled from the beginning to however long the track last, nine's blast
A synonym for heat, Wolves teeth flash
Out to weed out the weak sheep
Within the industry, is encouraged mimicry of nursery lines
But I kill while you sleep with rhymes
Lying never, Truth is in my DNA
But i'm admittedly more clever than I care to display
Back hairs raise, pen that lingering fear
That effects the minds and actions of my once dearest peers
Clear, Out the the smoke in the area
Expose the flow thats told to cause hysteria
Like a clumsy hemophiliac AIDS carrier
Hip Hop ain't dead but some rushing to bury her
And while you digging her grave, as a media slave
I'm just a slave to my pen to have the casket be raised
Depends on how my talent is appraised
If I'm the best or not either way most amazed
Just wanna sit down writing Me, the pen, and the paper
Add a mic, a few fans and subtract the haters
I'ma keep spitting, till I get up my paper
Put a fence around my flow like biters are neighbors
Never get it twisted, I ain't raps savior son
Get cash, spit rhymes, all while having fun
Is my aim, however long my career run
But, True to this culture until the day I'm done
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