Check ....
Who been the illest of all crimes and all rhymes, attack mode at all times, run your ATM card and paid you in all dimes. You old tymers MC's forget the veteran, headbanger shit my CD with 2 Excederin, who better than me to bash your head till it bleeds, makin it poor to the war like the war with the confederacy, read the letters and see just how mentally GOD be, plus my squad be live for real. Cuz O U T is where the rest be, dare to test me, I'll plunge you in pissy water like its NESTEA, and come up empty like damn, I dunked you in the water like that... your style is butt cheek with fecal matter in the crack, your supposed to flush turds, flushded MC's get very scary, kiss your wife, grab a sharp knife and committ Harey Carey, fuckin fairy, the outcome of the two-piece may vary, cop a few beats, and I'll smack your bitch from Maine to Mayberry, hold the fuck up... I ain't through with you boss, you wanna floss, wheres the receipt for your do, your slackin up on the cost, and it cost me a motherfucker, put him up in broad day, front of his mom, his wiey, and his mistress, diss this, money cancel your christmas, make you duck down like you was Dru, hah, me play second to any crew, nah.....
Put up or shut up, all of these rappers run up hollerin what up, they'll find you like an overdrawn card, you cut up. My styles beyond butter, its pure and unpasteurized cream, B and C's worst dreams and leave em bastardized, flashed before your eyes, you ask for surprises, then at long last, when is that ass he realizes, that you outta time, them baby powder rhymes only got you in deeper, I put you in the sleeper, choke you out with nine. Feel your esophagus begin to crumble, stagger and stumble tryin to breath, you bout to leave, I caught you on the humble. Do you believe in Christ, you better start kid, you bout to meet and greet with the recent dearly departed, freshly cremated your remains to be torched, Black and Decker dust buster gets those ashes out my yard. I knew ya'll was sweet, I could see the candy stripes, but i drop so much SHIT, my tapes come with HANDY WIPES. You like Damn, he tight, MC's dont be comin correct, get on cassette I spit fire like fortex, hurricane style snatch you up into the vortex, and reconfigure that ass, from your dome to your Goretex...
If Rob is like Whoa, and Pac is like Oh, BrutalB's like Oh No there that playa go. Im menacing, I'll turn you squad out like mesculin, drink the rest of your gin, and begin from within like medicine, you cant see this, your energy's depleted once you breathe the ether and either the cease to where the dreams state, you scream late. Nobody's hearin the cries of a tortured bad guy, to be disguised, duck-taped, and cement neck-tied, overboard yellin GERONIMO, went to my tape recorder as your last words, should have been war, cuz I blast herbs, guess Im a bastard, Oh my God, I killed the Henni, and every little wack MC you ever sent me, ever since the Ness broke up, I been brandishin mics, MPC's and MP3's remain nice. You aint a quarter of my level, nah, fuck it, half that...Your dumbstruck worse than that duck from AFLAC, slicker than a gecko, not to be confused with GEICO, but half of these rappers follow claims, but I leave the mic blown... Save you up to 15 percent of the time, it takes to whoop your ass and leave your head bent, I'm not exactly heaven sent, I'm hellbent on causin a shakeup, to separate the real from the rappers just wearin make up. You eat the doodie from a fag's swollen bowel, a putrid, long, stinky piece thats brown like Colin Powell.
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