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Holdin microphones till my hand crumbles, growin up involved in mad rumbles//
Hangin with a click got me caught up in bad troubles, now i got a flow harda than brass knuckles//
Fuck uncle Sam, i wanna talk to Uncle Sam's Uncle, im still tryin ta escape from my dads struggle//
Me and my mans hustle, tryin to make a grip, slayin Mic's with verbal Ak's i spit//
With a flow more percise than tha gun you aimin with, my life is maintained in scripts//
And I don't stop till I rocked the Mic with anotha masterpiece//
When I come in tact with beats, quick ta leave MC's in catastrophies//
Walk the streets casualy, hold the block down like gravity till the cops come afta me//
Lyrically severin heads, skills strong enough to leave old veterans red//
Good on the Mic, I'm even better in bed, Fuck Bush and Gore i like my presidents dead//
Never in debt, I never sleep cuz i dream of deep omens//
Keep smokin got me high, hard to retrieve focus from the Lye//
My next opus got flows thats sharp as razors ta the neck//
I maintain from the stress, holdin Mic's sway from right ta left//
Either night or day, i stay rockin hoodies careful-ly check my steps in fatigues//
Check where they lead, the right the futures bright, to the left's my death, rest in peace//
Rockin crazy, Diggin in pockets, tear your eyes out ya sockets if ya got ta pay me//
I'm like the Godfather lately, my flows like water, watch MC's drown like Scott did Lacey//
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