Cars driving through your throat,
gassing each rap note,
so you cannot swallow or gloat,
you'll crash in my every quote.
You cannot speak a word I say,
I mold my beats with fucking clay,
lights flashing into the prey,
blinding lights turn you to grey.
Flying and crying,
I'm spying,
through binoculars with lenses that zoom,
I'll make you go gloom,
in this fucking battle room.