[Verse 1]
I got to be bout the meanest ever, you defeat me never, I was born dead!
Fat n***a with horns in his head
Calls himself the east side King! He breathes lightning!
You can see electrical currents when he's rhyming
Skin made of Teflon, he don't need no vest on
He proceeds to get blown, when he bleeds the shits chrome!
He ain't a human bein'
Wait till you see him, he's a true demon
He uses trees
To defecate on loose-leaf
A ghetto legend came out the womb at eleven
With the face of a felon
But a face like a meteor hit him, a Detroit icon!
With a stomach made of pistols, eye of tiger, heart of lion
The ghetto messiah! It's on forever
1877, more calm then ya!
Never knew the east side, he would have to run
Calm like a thief in the night with a mask and a gun

[Hook]
Ohh, somebody pass me a lighter (Well)
Oh won't you please light this blunt up for me (Tell 'em why!)
So I can get high and start spittin the fire (Aw, Gordy!)
Let these n***as know why they call you 'siah
[Verse 2]
Lyrics comin with the strength of ten men
Not even with titanium bones, I'll end them
I'm stoppin' his men, now he's breathin' slowly, I hope he don't pee
On himself when I'm rhymin' his legs and break one knee
A verbal arsonist, my verse it too hot to spit
Burnin' off all your skin, murder your ligaments
Why do they call me King? I ain't self proclaimed
These eyes saw a whole lot of n***as die 'cause they felt the flame
Think I'm talkin' just to hear my motherfuckin' self talk?
I am to the east side what Biggie was to New York
Hope I'm lyrically upliftin' ya when I'm droppin' this
Stay humble, never arrogant, just confident
I just want Detroit to love me, oh I cry for you
I looked out yellin' your name, ready to die for you
I just want to puff a blunt, oh just for you
Oh Detroit, I love you so (Oh! Well....)

[Hook]
Ohh, somebody pass me a lighter
Oh won't you please light this blunt up for me (Tell 'em why!)
So I can get high and start spittin the fire (Aw, Gordy!)
Let these n***as know why they call you 'siah

[Verse 3]
I got the scripture of a king, paint the perfect picture
A worthless n***a, peseants, bow down to my presence
With these two braids sticking up
In case you were wondering "Why in the fuck
Does he have the two braids sticking up?"
Drinkin' gin outta a a tenth-century English cup
Fuck shootin’ tou cross me, your head's bein cut (Off wit his head!)
My cape is from an African lion eye, from a sacred African tribe
They'll prasie me after I die!
Forty eight frames made from an elephant's tusk
Motor gauges on like the president or something
Old people lookin like, I know he said something
But go and let him do his thing, he's the east side's king
Please don't try to do it people, boy this guys out of it
Please don't try to do it people, oh this guys out of it!
Well, don't try to interview him, oh this guys out of it!
Only thing he's gonna scream is (Well, well, well, well)
[Hook]
Ohh, somebody pass me a lighter
Oh won't you please light this blunt up for me (Tell 'em why!)
So I can get high and start spittin the fire (Aw, Gordy!)
Let these n***as know why they call you 'siah