lyriclly eating you like hannable... smoking u like cannable..
till you surrounded by metal like a can of food..
i stay with the green white tan and blue..
my punches hit hard.. so when i said i felt he's spit,
in return... he's teeth what i handed dude...
my knife work like blind drivers with red lights,
got no other option but to ran it throu...
I stay with a 'thick pack' of that soft 'tan' like 'janet boobs'...
so war with me i'll leave u box'ed up and ready to ship off like a package-rule...
im use to the fighting... so your the target of my striking...
an like useless utensile... u'll get use to having the knife-in...
like collasping stages... this is where the hype ends...
cuz u'r skill's wouldnt elevate a inch if u wrote a verse hiking... MOTHER FUCKERS...