im checkin my smith and wesson my weapon of choice
when i die only thing left are my rhymes which will be my voice
to live eternal, poetry is my only pure expressions like crystals
my dismissal from life will be by the pistols
so i gotta blow up like missles to leave my place in history
if i cause misery and just leave it'll be a mystery
so i'll take a different path one that'll last one that'll blast
battle me fast and get it done like its a task
just leave u in the past like im ridin away its an impressive display
all these people think theres gonna be a fight today
but naw it aint happenin im take it back like im backin in
ima come close and be attackin in

blah quick.....