im "back-roax", from some backroads with gravel/
horse and sattle, milkin this game like it was cattle/
but i aint got no funny cyde, believe me/
my horse is a pen, my pen is a fuckin genie/
i throw roax in rivers, its gay how you skip/
i show off my figure and you lay at my hip, bitch/
didnt i already rip your DNA in pieces?/
is it cause im breathtakin that you're so speachless?/
during this spit your morning im evening../
till the score's settled our im not leaving/
jesus im just releasin...all the bullshit ive been fed since i been breathin/

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""Accustomed to trample on the rights of others, you have lost the genius of your own independence and become the fit subjects of the first cunning tyrant who rises among you." --Abraham Lincoln, speech, September 11, 1858