Damn, that was some good shit. We know eachother so some of the personals aren't evident to some.

I'mma rip in like an inmate mates-in to his penitentiary kin/
You sing your "no big deal" noise and act frantic/
I'll bring my cold steel toys wrapped in plastic/
Not those, silly faggot/
These the type to turn ya brown eyes dialated/
And burn ya meager soul until annhiliated/

Catch a chin check, like ya cousin's car wreck/
I'm to leave this BG emcee unrecognizably MC'd/ (Monte Carlo'd)
Shit, fuck ya chin — I'mma check it twice/
Naughty, not nice? I'll bring it thrice/
Utilizing the third hand you ever-frequently demand/
Actin' like it's economically-adjusted contraband; Settle down Stan!/

Just shut off your mind, it only works a little bit/
And when on your lady I dine, it's just orgasmic fits, quivering tits, clenched hips 'n' broke nail tips/
Militaristic audible ballistics, firin' 17 clicks atcha slobber-dick sick trick/



I'd love a round two.