Maybe its my state of mind/ that makes me drop these fatal rimes/ born to be a legend dog and this is my way 2 shine/
i design flows/ and define styles/ ill tie you to a truck and drag your azz for nine miles/ my minds vile/ and i write with a venomous pen/this real shit will turn you all you boys in to men/so f--k what you heard and f---k what you said/ i do that azz mob style and cut of ya legs/ bust shots till you bloody and red/you'll be like cheap gasoline all fulla lead/
fuck you wack rappas/ who act like gat packers/im the x-factor/and a platinum chain jacka/ so come off ya chains cuz i hate you hoes i can melt ya bling bling down to h20/