In my fridge, i got canned humans, i leave gas on all bridges
Burn it if u earn it, but yaw fridged, style's cool dun learn it
Old kitchens, wit old spices, some new screws but wit old vices
Shit fresh out the box, show prices
No heists, i push hip hop like it was keyz, or maybe weight
But the shit others pushin is baby weight, make eighty freeze
When i shoot the breeze, bring nothin less than a stack
Or personally, i'll put the tech to yo back
An catch rep for the fact, that i step wit the gat
Dissect necks on the track, expect less if u wack
My team stress checks on the lap, to keep in step wit the rap
Its a wrap when we come through, on stages when shine like sun do
On pages we rhyme to run you, pull gauges for dime's an funds too
Enrage us we wine like one duke....never
I'm like murda mook, but better, i hearda you, u clever
But wit the lyrics, u lame, in yo spirit, you tamed
Aint wild like me, can't move a crowd like me
Its best that u like me, before u meet the career ender
Wit no regard for life, on my truck i got the "deer" fender
Blood stained wind shield, from shits thats been killed
Fuck yo "hands" bra, yo cards is played cuz shits been "dealed"
I bend ill, in other words i go hard for tech gaurds
Bullet proof pants, the next par that steps....send chills
