I'll sell you like I just busted a nut in your mom's
Battle me? you have a better chance fucking the gong
You little chicken ass n***a, you belong on the farm
On a plate, with your tail smothered in barbecue sauce
Grand Unified it’s our war!
I carry a heavy artillery rifle that's longer than Andre the giant’s arm
Make you nervous like you were (Woz?) leaving your car alarm
I have you running from the game like you was Carl Malone
I've been to war your dog tags ain't even real
All I have to do was pierce your heart and watch the kool-aid spill
Take a C plus class get with the program
Ill embarrass you like you showed up to school with no pants
As a grown man with shit stains in your boxers
I'll chop you up faster than propellers from helicopters
You ain't ready for war, why you looking to start one?
I beat you worse than Shredded did to turtles in part one
I'm part sun part moon and all-star
Like the 93 million miles-tall with one ass cheek raw and Chuck Tailor’s
Yeah, you can go and sell your soul for a buck if you ain't gettin' enough paper
Shit! We can battle for 10.000 a pop
But the only time you MC is when your mouthing a cock
Don't even expect me to believe your ridiculous lies
You couldn't see me if you was god with ubiquitous eyes
I'm sick with the rhymes there's not even a cure for what I have
I'm on a Prescription for medicated injections for my ass
I'm sicker than a chick that carries a 5-foot-dick
On her period I'm that serious about this shit
Any given moment I can focus and build enough power
To launch myself in space at lightspeed and sustain it for hours
Aiming at you cowards ugh, just afraid to be yourself
With my sub-atomic disruptors from the Denoris belt
What do you know about spittin'? N***a, I'm deep with this shit
I'll keep ripping 'till linear time as we know it ceases to exist
I'm a melody addict music was integrated into my deoxyribonucleic acid
If you can't hack it do me a favor and step the fuck off
Or I grab a semi-automatic and let the fuck off
A 100 bars you want a 100 bars you get
I'm a warrior I'll end up going in town with this shit
You couldn't get down on me if I stuffed you under the dirt
In a casket within the soil of my own turf
You softer than a nerf how'd you expect to destroy me
I'm King Kong, all your weapons gonna do is annoy me
You bore me like a rerun that I've seen 50 times
And hearing the lame rappers spitting the same 50 rhymes
With 50 lines regardless, fucking nickels and dimes
Who can't even write a quarter of a half decent rhyme
But 12 and a half percent of the time, they know the truth
If it wasn't for your label nobody would even notice you
I know about things that are just so massive
That if you saw'em you you would probably have a heart attack after
Like existential savagery the compton effect
Grand unified theories and the great wall of galaxies
As far as ripping motherfucker, you's a newbie
I take you about as serious as a PG-13 horror movie
I'm raw like sushi
You could have the combined powers of superman and hulk and still couldn't move me
Like I need arms to reach at you
Shit I don't even need to be a ground type pokemon to take a pikachu
And not to mention my indomitable vision
To blow your molecular structure across the 12th dimension
I'm just sickening You don't wanna rumble with me
I'll put the gloves on You just want to fumble the beat
If you was mercury within the thermometer with a 100 degrees
You still couldn't come up with heat
I generate the fire while you still tryin' to be gangsta
Gangsta? You're about as gangsta as Lizzie McGuire
A sissy for hire take it up in the rectum ass n***a
Nasty like a gonorrhea infected ass n***a
You's a wimpy ass n***a
I'd gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger a day ass n***a
Fucking smurf I chase you off the block like I was Gargamel
You need to throw that bullshit that you writing in garbage pail
Slaughtering me is fucking hard as hell
Cuz when you think you got me on the ropes and beat man, it's hard to tell
If you ain't feeling this then you can get your money back
But I promise you I spit lyrics sweater than Honey Smacks
Cuz when I kill you there ain't no coming back
That's why whenever you see me you should start running like running back
Or running track like a bitch with the weave
You could have HIV and still wouldn't be sicker than me
I got more balls than a jailer can rack
I'm probably the only backpack you know with actual balls in his bag
But you're hardest n***a rapping? that's why I'm laughing
Yeah, about as hard as a wet paper napkin
I can probably spit some icicles and toast that n***a
Even my girl told me "baby roast that n***a"
I got more accuracy than a navy sniper
My beats and rhymes are funkier than some chunky milk and baby diapers
So pay the piper before I get inside ya
I'll have you screaming in so much pain you're hollering out for your messiah
Syllable spitting I'll have your mental ascended into the highest position to conquer the opposition
Whether it's freestyle or written or battling in the trenches
Making your last stand repelling Iraqi dissidents
I've been there done that
You live in a lie
Buying guns and don't even know what ammunition to buy
But you're willing to die trying
I'll have you so twisted you'll be hearing the lights and seeing the damn sirens
I get around like a tire, spit high like a geyser
My music spin and runs the motherfucking web like a spider
You could smoke weed in a space-shuttle, couldn't get higher
I maintain a higher orbit in my civilian attire
I'll take it back, stone knives and bear skin
So well trained I could kill you with a hair pin
My music's a trap I set it where the scared live
But it's only a trap 'cause you can't tell where the snare is
I've been asked to ghost-write for ghost-writers
And bring the drama as a case ......
You don't want it I'm a classic like Bad Dudes
I got more soul than James Brown wearing Shaq’s shoes
Cause if you cross me and I have to go to drama mode
You won't forget it like the motherfucking Contra code
Up up, down down, left - right, left - right, B – A select start
And that ain't even the best part
I'll take your 30 lives and wipe my ass with'em
And leave you crew sweating more than extremely fat women
I ain't trying to stack millions
I'm trying to spit some incredibly dope and outrageously fat lyrics
For all whose timing Look: I'm still rhyming [look at your clocks]
5 minutes and 30 seconds with good timing
You wonder how I even get deep without diving
20.000 leagues under sea without dying
20.000 degrees in the heat without frying
Without shining, I can still blind you I'm that vibrant
A rap tyrant and I ain't even that violent
But I am enough to stab you up in your face with a trident
My persistent attack is relentless
I give you a shot in your mouth like a dental assistance
If you diss this one-of-a-kind lyrical missfit
I'm titanium A, while you as brittle as biscuit
You wanna battle then prepare to be wasted
But I'll drop you faster than a drill seargent in basic
So think twice before you try to come face this
Cause I'll destroy you and leave the game faster than Mace did
I spit shit with no intention to stop
I spit from now on until my album is dropped
I speak for Easy, big pun, Biggy and Pac
East to left coast Brooklyn, Compton to Watts
It would take you to blow off my motherfucking noggin to stop
And even without my head I continue to rock
And even without a demo to shop
I still lace you from the bottom, middle to top
Don't tempt me I fucking mean it, I'm simply
The lyrical version of Leonardo DaVinci
There's no reason they should call you an MC
Even under hypnosis you couldn't convince me
On top of that I grind your crew up to mince meat
Cause the idea of them picking up the mic offends me
Cause they don't do because they wanna be MC
They do this shit because they think that it's trendy
But not me
I'm gonna climb the mountain
Stop along the way and battle the local townsmen
Tell'em they remind me of Theo, Simon and Alvin
And even kill a mountain lion if he tries to ponce in
A 100 bars I could have went for a 1000
And even kicked them straight underwater without drowning
And if you thought 159 was astounding
I actually kicked 160 but who's counting