[Verse]
Hello, what up, it's Jarv; Non-stop bars
You'll feel a bit invaded when I talk that garb
While I talk a lot of game, I'm really not that smart
I'm cocked in the whip, can't park the car
All-star staring as starving artist
Start it up and you can star on the back of a milk carton
Like Jimmy Cliff- Harder They Come, Harder They Fall
You're elevating till I make it like a scene in The Departed
Pardon me, I charge in piece
I mean, I leave em scattered like patterns upon beats
While talk is cheap, I floss that speak
You better know better, competitor don't want beef
Tartare, please- I march armies
Into battle without a doubt a can spar- Jarv; beast
He part thee seas, thee shart feces
Easy does it buddy, you run with the wrong team
Get cray when the bass go boom
Everybody in the place put your face on the roof
Lacing the groove with a phrase making you say
When he came through he set flame to the booth
Never gonna lose
Bringing war to mumbling motherfuckers Like Sun Tzu
Stun you when I'm uttering, none above it
I'm leaving you stuttering- tell me, what you're gonna d, d, d, d, do?
Who's this who spit true shit, too sick
Dude, you get booted, booed and uprooted, he ruthless
You sit, doofus, zip lip, supid
2-bit, dim-witted, I kill it and move quick
Too quick for the average kid
I'm packing people in the crowd while you're packing a crack hit
I mean, you gotta be smoking If you're thinking you're dope
I'll show you how to leave a microphone shattered in fragments
If you don't wanna get the venom in the vein, evade attack
Lab rats better flash that talcum flag
That's that, when I've had it, I blast and blackout
Wack cats better pack your baaags
Get back little bitch, quick fast
Giddy up idiot, whip, gallop and dash
I've got a theme for fiends, Jarvy-supreme will lyrically break bad like Malcolm's dad
You can can talk all bad and boo me
That doesn't mean jack shit to me
Who's he? He's Jarv- Groovy Retard
Drinking jack with slag-ass groupies
They are haggard, not appealing
Nasty bitches catching feelings
No problem, I am all in
Balling on the ceiling
Looking down, I book it now, get rowdy when I look at how
The crooked little people get to pushing on the wooden bow
To take it to the limit and to press upon the nerves
But I be living on the precipice, kicking 'em to the curb
An epic illiterate idiot better never be stepping, kid
He finna get whipping, he better bet it won't benefit
A bit and when he get it in the vision he'll regret it
He'll be digging at the retinas, reminiscent of Oedipus