[Verse 1: L-Fudge]
Yo, check it out. I don’t know if should start rhyming straight off the top
Or should I just blow up the spot with something that’s in my notepad
My flow’s bad. You must be stupid. I’m aiming at n***as
With my arrow as if my name was Cupid
I rip a fat sample and I loop it. My brother Oceana
I’ll have people coming around the mountain just like Susana
I am a not a gamma ray, but I don’t be a gam or gay
But I switch up my style and parlay
Like my man to my right. I ignite to cypher
Spit on your face with saliva. That’s how it’d be. Ayyo, I could
Just represent in the air. (*Nonsense*) I could stutter
And still make this shit sound butter—that’s word to mother
These lyrics that I utter be like, “God damn. That n***a L-Fudge
Really is the man.” I expand like headbands. Ayyo, I’m like a dead man
Walking because I be talking and people want to kill me
Fulfill these dreams? You must be, um, going crazy
I leave you like a ghost like Patrick Swayze. I never cease
To amaze the crowd. Ayyo, rappers get often plowed
Less if you was a, uh, whatever you call it
But I eat rappers up like Whatchamacallits
You’ll forfeit this battle. I’ll slice n***as in the neck
Place ‘em in saran wrap and sell ‘em by the pound like cattle
You must skedaddle. I’ll leave you and my alternate rhymes as, uh, which
Is not shadow. Trying to get through doing the doggy paddle
My raw (*Nonsense*)... I can’t believe this
But, sir, I’ve been freaking flows since I was a fetus
I be talking crap. I originate flows straight often as
Bust raps as if I was a gun and my lyrics was a cap
I originate flows straight off the naps, which would be the head
That’s how it be. I be fracturing your skull as if I was lead
Shot from a gun. I sprung as if I was a spring
I leave rappers hanging like ding-a-lings. Ayyo, I never sing
In my track. But I just get gats. Uh, that must be stupid
Because I don’t, uh, represent that stuff. I knew shit stupid
(*Nonsense*). I is going on again
Because I don’t know what’s going on, but word is bond
I catch more casualties and that is, uh, Vietnam. I got an iller mentality
Than that of Saddam. "Let's Git In On" just like Smif-N-Wessun
I’ll start testing rappers who ain’t impressing. Then I start
Penetrating through your bulletproof vest and sending messages
That be subliminal. Sheisty individual. Step up in
My direction and you gets cut off like an umbilical
Left in critical condition. These lyrics that I’m spitting
Submitting into a rhyme, has the average emcee shitting
Uh, so, yo. Let me just do this
Go ahead, bless that, bless that, bless that