Trust me, it's career suicide tryin' to end me
Best keep silent if you're one of my enemies
Honestly, you sound like a ripoff Diddy track
You'd have a better chance bringing 2Pac & Biggie back!
Then you would tryin' to outshine me
I keep my lyrics rather sick, dirty and grimy
Blimey, lotta false gimmicks on the radio
So vaccinated, can't even give the mic Polio

Me? I'm a Little Boy that's filled with Uranium
Who dreams of getting brain until his cranium
Is so big, you see me coming before I arrive
And don't mind me if I carjack your drive
It's called GTA for a friggin' reason!
And I bring heat to the beat, no matter the season!
They wonder how I can beat competition with no gang
It's easy: I step to the mic with flames, Roy Mustang

You step to me with your gang, claiming to be a god
I'll slaughter all with ease, call 'em Suicide Squad
'Cause I know your trapping and such are lies
Like I stole Maximillion's Millenium Eye!
Truce? Nah, I'm not giving away breathers
I'll devour you after you're ethered, I'm a Soul Eater
Knock out the mic like a chop from Maka Albarn
Then walk away with Liz & Patty in my arms
I'm from the Aylesbury Underground dude, show respect!
'cause I'm as real as a dreamer can get!
So don't be alarmed when things start to get gory
I make sure punchlines aren't left hanging like Sayori!
And once I drop the mic and say that I’m through
I guarantee the Devil May Cry at what I can do
‘Cause I turn to Natsuki when I kick up a fuss!
I feel myself with the pen more than Yuri does!

I don’t need no body armour, just the crown
And even if some archangels aren’t always down
With my sickness, as long as I rap, I’m happy
Especially when the whole game’s thrown right at me
You kids know nothing, I call you Jon Snow
“Oh now you hate on the kids! Such a low blow!”
Okay, maybe I was a little harsh, but bottom line:
I’ll make sure your pupils dilate, no Columbine!

“Well, why don’t you make original stuff if you’re so stunning?”
I will, as long as Bandcamp & SoundCloud are running
Wait, you really think I’m gonna waste my time in the booth
Making mixtapes that sound so uncouth?
Nah, I wanna stand out from the crowd
When I spit what’s on my mind out real loud
‘Till I’m as lyrical and dangerous as Hopsin
With a bank account as big as Drake’s cheques is!
So for now, I stand in the booth like a man
Writing and spitting the hardest lyrics that I can
I gotta question: do ya wanna ride or die
Like Tupac Shakur, only the strong survive
But this isn’t over, this is far from done
This may be the end of the track, it’s been fun
But as for now, I must continue to run
Until the day that I see my Kingdom Come