I've made more nigga's deaths than the clan's made/
..You ain't ya name, I just sent you to taco bell with a facial bandaid//
While i get a guage that's man made//
...To blow shots at you, as if glasses of vodka were attached to fanblades//
I could direct blocks at you//
...Call me the don, YOU blind spit, while i direct shots at you//
But like abuse victims, you'll be dead in this fight when it's done//
I still wreck you, and I'm Ray charles with a mic and a gun//
The weight of my rhymes,Likely a ton//
You can't fuck with me, i stuck you with the involuntary life of a nun//
Each line i spit's blessfully sinnin//
I'll treat ya head like the pic below ya name, have it perpetually spinning//
Like it had a little exorcist in it//
I'll walk up to ya apartment building wit a tek, disrespectin it's tenants//
Since early age i kept the blade runnin//
...You can't rep nyc to the fullest, livin 200 miles away from it//
The sickness in this hits you//
...Dismiss you, with six shoot, and let bullets christen the bitch with you//

So think before tossin the mortar//
I got an ak47 in case, ya family is crossing the border//