holy ‘n’ gracious when tha bass kicks over my cadence, I stay safe on Stairways to Heaven’s Gate/ your threats is fake like Ignatius ‘n’ tha Jesuits’ faith, escape from tha Jakes with what I embrace/ verbose tirades parade irate from tha nickel-plate/ intimidate tha mic ‘n’ dare I say, rape the airwaves with forcible hate rhymes that’ll spray heavy like 80 AKs/ I stay underground stuck in tha bing still with a bevy of dames that wanna bed me/ retroactive, take it back to tha ‘90s like we at raves with tha techno/ fuck that, this is Hip Hop, my Berreta 9 rap cock blocks any crab, so keep your Glock cocked/ bound to splash pop sensations for fuckin’ with this God Body Caucasian…
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