I handle the glock like MJ handle the rock
I leave niggas waitin to exhale after the gun pop
I enter ya mind like the matrix
as I read between the lines I can tell u just a fake bitch
dont fight me cuz u niggas cant relate bitch
ya rymes lack reality
when the techs come out you gonna be killed by a technicality
i gotta killas mentality
so when im in the zone ya final destination is a funeral home
I expect someone to hate my flow
but I got fiens on the block that love my blow
and i got hoes in my crib that luv to blow
so i really dont care if u cant understand my rymes cuz ya thinkin process is slow
believe me, u niggas that think you the best in this rappin shit
better breathe easy
because all it take is a bullet in the neck to sound like weezy
if you test me, you'll fail
cuz im harder to read then brail
so dont fuck with me cause I'll have the hardest nigga beggin for jail
and the most god fearin nigga prayin to go to hell
cause Im like a rappin version of a omen or a curse
with one verse I leave niggas in a hurst
make ya chest burst and ya head hurt
so even if I spit first you are still gonna get it the worst
and let ya ass get really close to mother nature and put you under the dirt
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