[Verse 1: Evidence]
I play the low end, you never know, you probably never heard of me
My hands'll never shake, it's steady hand surgery
Already banished as courtesy
DMC didn't need it then I'll be MC
E-V proceeded by the B-A-B-U
A-L-C and no mothafuckin' take two
Mistakes do happen and I ain't afraid to keep 'em either
Add 'em with a little pain and leave 'em with the smell of reefer
A padded room with the cell receiver
Odd thoughts from a rhyme that you could tell is even
I ain't tell 'em either, I did tell 'em listen
Didn't tell 'em givens, but did sell the seeders
I say it like I seen repeaters
I seen 'em come and go selling out theaters
Too back, peddling back they caught me dealing
Better sell it in scraps and never seen a ceiling
Sell a feeling for derivative exposure
I'm a think tank and driven like a No Limit soldier
There is no gimmick to this closure
Just a image with a fork ridden over
Just a vision of the finish line
Energy ascends, that is cinema within a sign
Rap sitting on the bench like it's dinner time
Major events, I'm getting mine