I stand my ground lyrically bound,
To a mic on my right arm aimin 2 impound,
Then next brotha that wishes ta speed bye,
Wavin' fake gang signs like he simply wavin' hi,
It makes me sick that all these wannabes wanna try,
To testify, I DENY!
Access to my tireless trainin',
As I work on the stage, style drainin',
All the methodical fools frontin' tools,
Screamin' they lay the law make the rules,
Yet they need mad PRACTICE!
TRACK THIS!
I'am the one who drops knowledge in a rage like an angry sage,
Writin' confusin' chapters forcin' fakaz to turn the page,
You lock me in the cage, I JUST BUST YA GAUGE!
I've been work since the age of a juvenile,
Kickin' continuous hotbeats and phat style,
YET YOUR IN THIEF DENIAL!
Walkin' tall yet stolen profile,
And now your in Hell's court, time for the trial,
Your turn to be tested and bested,
Like I was before I rested,
And took on the brothaz on the current rap scence,
Kickin' madd whackness yet clockin' madd green,
I'VE COME TO REIGN SUPREME!!!
Bring forth my lyrical dream team,
DIVINE, MURDA, AND SCHEME!!
So don't forget to avoid the blink,
Stand wide-eyed and think,
Cause my gat reacts faster than your bat,
When its all over,
People will stand above and ask, who was that?
The insane mic rocka,
The fake bitch stalka,