Sick but not with lines
so when you see me with a knife you know its time-
Throats get slit i only torture souls in dungeon pits
mad man equipped with witts
taking out squads with deadly words coming out my lips
from struggle to frustration its all i've been facing
I'm so underground tigga wouldnt even let me in the basement-
So raw my flesh alone contains hip hop's medicine
it's clear and evident
the flow detaches ligaments
emcees left in amazement
i bring horror to eyes like fat bitches on jerry springer getting naked
five days outta 7 im wasted
that means them two days im in the pad writting lyrics trying to make it
force to hold RAP by the neck
sometimes i feel im the only one giving HIP HOP RESPECT!
No hating in me
but you spitting that bling bling you no real emcee
just a bunch of hoes on their knees
giving head to industries
get smacked up followed by a "bitch please"
trying to attack my empire posing as a G
so to the end or my death
which ever comes 1st
ima hunt fags in rap craving Hip Hop's Curse
as soon as mainstream gives them birth
then blaze'em in heaven or hell either way its gonna be worst
until they scream out send me back to earth......