In Da Middle Of A War Smokin Da Ses
Its The Mic Killa Labeled K-a-s
Ima Flow Till The Day I Rest
You Wont Stop Hearing Me Till You Accept Me As Da Best
Its The Ear Drums Of Yall That I Finesse
Its Kasanova
With A Fresh Lyrical Bulldozer
For Yall To Try To Get Over
But Like Curing Aids It Cant Be Done
You Will Never See Kas On The Run
Betta Chance Seein Him Flash The Gun
To A Old Ass Nun Fuckin With Her Calling Her Hun
Yo Im Sick Of The Wack Gettin Riches And Fame
When They Should Be Acredditing My Name
I Slept For A Minute Tryin To Be Holy
But The Currency Like Always Controls Me
Its The Extended
Sick Of You Who Pretended
To Be A Wiseguy
When Its My Style That I Lended
Instead Of Prolonging Shit Ima End It
To My Familys Doing Time For The Game They Couldnt Abort
When The Only Reason They Sold Drugs Was Cause They Had A Fam To Support
Its Like This Shits A Trap And Like A Net Im Caught
Whether Its Being Sold Or Bought
My Skill Cannot Be Stolen But It Can Be Taught
Call Me The Hardcore Professor
The Microphone Molester
This Rhyme Is For My People On The Corner At Night
Or The Gangsters That Drive Around Looking For A Fight
Not For The Niggaz Thinkin They Can Smoke Cuz They Got A Light
Rhyme Number Three
Ima Leave Wondering When The Next Will Be
Just Remember This Style Imported From Nyc