i'm barely able to stand stable, pen soaked through the page
an' stained this damn table
I'm in a pit of rage
i need to lick this bitter taste, off my lips
an' get off of this wagon, an' hit the bottle again
alcohol wasnt holdin' me down, or distortin my sound
an' when i drink a 40 i have more focus then i have now
so laugh now, i'll make you cry later
i'm like the spawn to your violater
i anhilate ya
i been in this game long before 8 mile playa
i'm bigger then the ozone layer, minus the holes, so i'm greater
mr.rogers died 'cause he tried to be my neighbour
in my hood on my block.. an' where i'm from
to walk down the street, you need atleast a 9 glock
your sly talk isn't wanted, i don't care what you got
an' i'm-a take it if you flaunt it
i promise, you'll be lyin' in fine chalk

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