Verse 1 (Grip Grand):
White hot like pipe rock, I own the spot
Don’t touch the microphone—it’s cocked
(Stop!)
You can’t draw with an empty holster!
Let me show your
Time as an MC’s over
My rhyme’s a heavy load for
Rappers. Dude, go back to your penny loafers
Unload my soul on tape. Known to take ‘em out!
Tight like a key in your rollerskates
You gotta style but I know it’s fake
Lotta turf, tough work when I’m on the plate
Thrown away, or saved for a snowy day
Got a rhyme on deck like a stowaway!
All night, and I’ll stay
On ice like I’m frozen OJ
‘Cuz, yo, it don’t pay to run
Tryin’ to hold that heat, but it ain’t a gun, and wait—
Who’s gonna take it? It weighs a ton!
Got goals, and I stated ‘em—Rec League sold out the Palladium
Hate me know, but later you’ll thank me, son
When the cops and Department of Safety come
Disarmin’ traps with my alarmin’ rap
Real smooth on the tongue like I’m armagnac
I’m on some back and forth like ping-pong
My brainstorm remains strong like Pac on “Same Song”!
So rock your rings, shine, and gems. I’m like “So what?!”
I write a rhyme with no pen in my own blood!
Don’t budge, about to blow up. Go for bucks
Bustin’ your coconuts!
Such-and-such, he said that I’m much too much
Just a touch of love, but enough’s enough!
What the fuck? Duck when I blaze the cut!
Y’all skill can’t fill up a paper cup!

(Adlibs)

Verse 2 (Percee P)

Unavailable at this time (sorry, y'all)

(Adlibs)