Unlike Tower 1 - Cage

You wanna shoot a video?

bring the pistol to Blockbuster

Wanna step to weathermen cause you all cockscukers!

Want a soldier story?

what’s gold and gory?

Pullin' jewelry off some dead bitch in the crematory

Put twelve little faggots in the fuckin' dirt then crawl

Out your little girls jaw and then ask her… who’s bizarre?

I’m so underground I should seek production in China cut a dime in half I got 2

legs and one vagina

Find a therapist that I can eat out soon cause I’m so homesick I miss mom’s

fallopian tubes

My vision is still frame animation put a gun to a square — make him slice a

mason

Pissin' adjacent got a dog for a agent studied virtue in the basement while my

doctor tried to keep his patience

Paint a portrait four minutes no rush while fools flock in a circle to dissect

the brush

Half step — can’t walk

Drunk slut — pants off

Fake jack — can’t talk

This mic — hands off

New jacks — get taught

Weak shit — get caught

Your crew — shits off

Whack bitch — dicks off

Dr. strange will sop your range with a stinking bucket of piss and cock block

your brain if you think you’re fucking with this

By christ I’ve been summoned to spit — son of a bitch up in your crib fucking

your bitch with one of my fists

Pants saggin low hands smackin ho’s — get down with the clan just to slit the

grand dragon’s throat

The way I see it everything on this damn earth is free — murder beats and turn

MC’s to hamburger meat

First comin' of thief of the mic creep like a thief in the night sneak in your

crib leave with your wife

Repent for your recordings when the engineer said your vocals were too hot — he

meant they were distorted

Explain how your venom harms your brain and your hard to slave when your dj’s

dressin' up in women’s lingerie

For eons I infect y’all with agent orange if you don’t know the words to these

verses don’t even say the chorus…

Half step — can’t walk

Drunk slut — pants off

Fake jack — can’t talk

This mic — hands off

New jacks — get taught

Weak shit — get caught

Your crew — shits off

Whack bitch — dicks off

I stay unbreakable like David Dunn the Philly native son you Mr.

Glass on mic’s the jaded one

Check out this ill cruise onslaught your career is a Hot 97 afterthought

It’s not my fault the asphalt and the pasts fault now who’s that kid from space

mountain

Lookin like an accountant highly touted off and on again

Really hip-hop needs to take five like donovan

I end my coke nights with bong hits and Klonopin

Send me the fuck back to Harlem and please

Boy release e steez from the hospital for joint disease

See them weasels on Davinci’s easel with the mona lisa oil paintings

Shavings and scrapings collide with championship trophy engravings

Clouds rock from foul crowds to out of bounds

Y’all couldn’t see my ass if I was in hospital gowns

Half step — can’t walk

Drunk slut — pants off

Fake jack — can’t talk

This mic — hands off

New jacks — get taught

Weak shit — get caught

Your crew — shits off

Wack bitch — dicks off