I’m brawlic, brawl you for quarters, call this a warnin//
I’m the safest nigga in prison, call me the warden//
I use ‘black ink’ slipped in syringes to penetrate//
So you ‘take shots’ of my text, till ya liver dissentagrates//
I match oswald’s grip, when I’m holding a tek//
Clap at ya collar bone, then piss into the hole in ya flesh//
As far as decent verses go, I ain’t seeing a thing//
You’ll have less ‘great hits’ ~than hand amputees in the ring//
You ain’t hot, and couldn’t spit flames if asked ya//
That’s why you the only cat stripped down to shorts in Alaska//
What I use likely is force//
I 'paralyze supermen', ~like I slipped kryptonite to a horse//
I spit truth to this peasant, his claims have been clearer since//
I’M KING, YOU CAN ONLY BE THIS BY INHERITANCE*//
Let ya mom and sis smoke this like a pack of bronsons//
and run through ya family, ~like aids does magic johnson’s//

*=his sig says, but u fuckin wit the king so show respect and bow 2 ya knees

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