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Guest
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WARNiNG: WiLDiN' OUT!
IP:
Keystyling This Shit Right Now...
Check It
I have no beef with emcees, I simply diss-to-get-known
Hits-to-the-dome, until the champ is stripped-from-his-throne
I got shit that’ll stop hearts and cause your lungs-to-close-up
Come if you so-buck, I’m blocking any shot you throw-up
Hold-nuts, you pussy nigga, regain your testosterone
I’m boxing-homes, sending directs hits ‘till your nostrils-gone
I’m going all out, I’m not stopping to compose better shit
I throwing better licks that talk blood, call ‘em red-letter hits
Heads will split, tumble, and be tossed if you stand in my path
Rambling trash, I quickly dispose of garbage in random attacks
I’m standing alone with fists, only way to harm me is guns
You wanna spar with me dun? Cris is an army of one
I ain’t no marine, or legitimate soldier in the barricades
I am a machine but my oils down though; I’ve had better days
I’m better crazed, my mind is gone, going on instinct
Mind’s charged; I’m releasing more bars than open precincts
Nah, fuck the bullshit, I pull clips, letting bullets discharge
My home is the war, and you won’t survive in this yard
My pits guard the entrance, the rest of fence is off limits
I’m just the facts, you can’t handle the truth, go off gimmicks
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