M.c circus running da crowd wild with their unique styles/

Kicking dope beats with killa freestyles/

These suckas think they eminem's character in 8 mile/

Inpersonating a fantasy in da making/

If you think i flow for a contract, your deaf to my gun clap/

Run and tel dat , boy ya get slapped, like a dyke with a nap/

I know what i am and thats that, a simple flowin machine/

Not to much sugar and a little bit of cream/

I don't hesitate to plan skeems, pin pointin visions in dreams/

tripple threat desires spontaneously burn and so it seems/

Anotha thought brings constant ideas/

Feeding it to yall laughing hiyenas in da mic arenas/

Replies from da m.c's expected to be breef /

No pulling teeth sensations speak, talking about a beef/

Don't care i said, i dont care, fair game so make a name/

When D.N.A of krisskass is da same of those dat spit lame/

Some one out their can explain, who want da fortune & Fame/

Picture me flowin automatically, words spoken in da rain/

I come from nowhere and i bring pain/

Dare to dream these styles dat come out carved on tiles/

Fuck around and get drowned head first on a cocaine pound/

Sniff ya brains out you muthafucking bloodhounds/

i'm in da in zone and yall are out of bounce/

I come clean with flows dat break it down to da point/

No need for fancy words or poetic slurs, wrap it in a joint/

Then smoke it in and out, blowin da air as i finish this bout/

Last wordz, i press forwards to yall cowards/

faggots on porpuse droppin soaps in yall showers/

crooked eye from da bad taste of da st. ides, tasting lies/

Put together like mcdonalds french fries ready to get fried/

I leave one of the thieves that rolled leaves/

Simple styles with vibrant vocabularies dat chucks berries/

Devils in disguise are my enemies, not yall movie m.c's/

Please, wit a cherry on top, clean yall fucking mouths/

Full of yourselves bustting rounds at innocent bystanders/

Talking shit to m.c's, like homer punkin flanders/

Thats why i write these lyrical standards for yall to answer/

Your replies distribute growth to my cancer/

Growing until you fill me with da hate, to good to debate/

Do what you must to seal yall fate to get a 5 star rate/

I don't hate m.c's dat act cocky, its their way of mocking/

They feel dat they have to rubb it in your face knocking/

Tasting disgust, of they styles dat bust nobody's nutz/

Same picture frame, dirty rotten punks fucking da same slutz/

Phony names are also maintained to look prolific at aim/

For a taste of da glory, they spit overrated flows dat bore/

Man, cant yall understand that star search is no more/

I gone with a simple ending dat is pending on your reply

dat you will be sending, to any m.c that believes himself

to surpass by telling you dat your not so great, just anotha

Snake wit da Eyes soon to be mobolized to take back

whats mine/ A piece of it.......