Y’all feeling me right?
I’m bombing on the track like an artillery strike
Riddle me like Jimmy in Batman Forever
My rhythm is tight- Really, I might scatter and sever
I smash on the bitch to the beats that hit
My speech heats the house when it leaves my lips
Keeping it fully equip to spit and split wigs
Kids’ all up in the comments like, “Why is he not big?”
I take not a bit, nor do I give a shit
Just give me the microphone, I’ll start it and I‘ll finish it
Been legit, sick, nasty- Whatever adjective you wanna pass me
I’ll gladly smash, packing a trash heap
Of words in the cranium- They rattle in my skull
If I challenged you to battle, you would have to say no
Your flow’s like a woman at her time of the month
But, kid, I’m masculine as fuck when I’m rhyming and stuff
Hymans’ll bust when I bust, trust me
Dusty beats crushed underneath the force
Formidably breach beats with a speech, sleek, smooth and it’s slick
You can admit no one’s doing it smoother than this, bitch
Yo, come on, stand still
I don't drop bars, fam- I drop anvils
Upon your headtop- Flex less, the best got tested
When I rock, place bets and set clocks
Unable to spring ahead? Better fall back
When real heads reclaim earth and serve cats their eviction notices
Time winds down, you’re tik talkin’ a lot
But you're not making a sound
Wow, how do I do it? I confound the-
Crowd, keeping ‘em moving, I move under-
Ground, get a plate, son- The taste is sweet
Arrange bass in a basement- You face defeat
I steady flip intelligent, hella legible, clever skill
If you don't get it- You gotta be kidding, kid- You never will
I'm an intellectual, yet most cats say-
Being an intellectual is so passé
Hey, pass the peas like they used to say
Grab your booster seats, I got moves to make
Now usually, you could try to use your weight
But me and you ain’t equal, I give crews a break
Fools flocking to sell souls
You rocking it? Hell no
Crews drop when the bell tolls
So hot that I melt foes
Burnt Fetish, yelling like Kelso
Even Ellen went and fell upon my elephant elbow
When I batter a flow pattern average Joe's scatter
I’m smacking ‘em with a bag full of batteries- No laughing
A whole stack of them jacking me- These Jokers’ getting mad-
When queens circle the king like rings ‘round Saturn
Step stride for the time is nigh to find anyone
Thinking they rhyme sicker than I
C’mon, give it a try, you thinking you guys got what I got?
If you decide to try it, you’ll be lying in a pine box
Rappers selling out with sad attempts at staying relevant
I ain't walking out the room without acknowledging that elephant
Heaven-sent, Hell-bound
Hell-bent hell-hound
Ready to bring the whole goddamn industry down
But will I make it? What is making it? Gosh
I'll know I made it when I go skating with Aesop rock
I’ll know I made it when I stop being compared to Eminem
When, aside from my complexion, there ain’t a speck of resemblance
It’s not a dis, but he ain’t in my top 5
It’s probably Slug, Q-Tip, Slick Rick, Del and I don’t even know
It doesn’t matter, it’s the point I’m tryina get to
I learned my half my flows from big L and Chip Fu
And if I don't get where I hope to be, I'll go, “Oh well”
What should I expect? Lyrics and flow don't sell
But I ain’t worried about a gall-dang thing
As long as I got a beat, I got a story to tell
Or I’ll just talk some shit, whatever