Flac jackets an' kevlar lack foundation,
blunt's tracks pound-da bacon(pigs/ 5/o)
in one round I'm takin' over in a sound invasion,
towns invaded;
you gettin' hit with a blunt object now; just face it

Irraticatin' nations thru placement in this vicinity
instantly I'm accepted as a sick-mc, dissin' me?
I got one word... Injury, lyrically or physically
this shit exquisitly formed, like a diamond in tha rough
but rhymin' isn't tough, well as-long as your blunt
but none-a you blunt, you jus-wanna be blunt
honestly bud, you'll never be blunt
I'm hot, lines hot, mines' hot.. your's.. NOT
like tha door's locked, you ain't uncovered tha key
this industry need's ta be ceized like a B'n'Eeee
heat comes free, so does defeat when it comes to me-mc
please mc, weak steez seem squeezed ta me
I'll see ya leave leakin' a cherry stain
this alien race paced at tha rate of any rhythm
blatent penny pickin' decisions makin' many listen
henny sippin' on alizee trippin' on stage
sittin' flippin' my page thru writtens I've made
wishin' I would gain fame with tha same name
instead I'm play'n tha blame game, head hangs in shame
I've made a mistake, so I'm in tha same state as the rest-a u... Lame
or maybe not, 'cause lately I've been takin' all tha stops
detainin' y'all in chalk, 'cause on tha mic I kill it
my skill is top notch, your's like ya sex lifes, cock blocked..
you just don't get it, never, if you ever did I'd bet it's
nothin' but a fluke, you nothin' in a booth...

consider this, murderin' topics with a comical switch
blertin' out non-sense as often as slim
perfect timin' like I'm clock-work-orange,
it's not worth war, my amp'll leave ya parapolegic
decibles not even on tha sound-stat records
I'm not on the charts, fought long an' hard
still not a star, but my bars jaged in tha same way
seraided stanzas have you slawed in tha same place
laced like half my tracks an' spread like the other half-a them
I overstep tha rest in half-an attempt, laughin' at them -all
with passion like lava life for adults, minus the calls
I keep goin' like I might never find-a wall
or my ride'll nevre stall-at-all just movin' on -n- on
from song-ta-song, deadly like sedam'n'laden, not Cin
talkin' Bin. a has-bin terrorist would be rebbel
could've been better had he never been severed from Al'Caida
still kinda ill minded while blinded by psycic images
my sidekick's diligance isn't matched by skill in this
skitzophrenic so really his village-is my brain
trained to drain tha main concience wave from potential space
as tha rhodenda fades tha contenders wilt an' die
spilt an' lyin' on tha sidewalk filled wit' heat
I KILLED DEFEAT!!!!


NOT DONE... JUST WANT FEEDBACK

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