Check my Sig.. .. Uh Oh.. Made You Look..
Nas aint the only one rippin slaves in the page of his rhyme book...
I've shot down the zero in ya loss column.. theres NO hope
If you dont choke now.. Its cuz tha sword in ya Avy already got to ya throat..
Yous Toast!.. Like 'Wonder'n what's in the Oven
*hol up... lemme help kid out wit somthin*
If ya record doesnt take a downfall.. It'll be ya heartbeat thats slumpin...
This really is nothin to me... Just Sick and Tired of Playin wit Emcees
Heat blazin ya Stature till society tends to only call you an M-C
Yu ran on empty.. like O' Boy's fuel for words on that commercial..
wit Beyonce.. fiance? Quit it 15 post-man.. age even matchin ya sex life Virgil...