It’s…the nigga that get hard than starch in yo fuckin creases
rip it to pieces
slicin’ and dicin’ and icin’ em’ right
with the mic I use
that’s as clean as a wild teacher
eyes stay tight when they fade
to watch swarm bleedin’
from out the freeza’
can’t you see em’?
I’ll go pound for pound wit the knuckle cuffin’ muthafucka
Rush em’ and touch em’
Then stand ova’ his ass and screamin’ “I told you not to start nuthin”
I’ma damage ya
You ain’t got the stamina
Half the talent to match , to dance wit the Tarantula
When I’ma chargin’ at cha
niggas be tryin’ to copy cat
wanna jump on the mic and do what I do but can’t keep up
you heard that arrr. you know that’s me
if it was a wrestlin’ match you’ll be on your back like 1…2…3