Assasins, their "S's" not 5's
I'll put up three fingers you can read between the lines
See I get sick and throw up ill rhymes
I'll hit you with verbal wood thats ply
M-a-g-n-i-f-i-cent, would be leavin you dead
Cause you c-a-n-n-o-t pour salt on slugs in your head
I'll flow a little somthing different
You flow like bush just keep glycerin