I rip off your rewind button so you have to pay attention,
Don't mention my name unless you payin' respects kid.
Gettin' paid big checks, I wanna be made in Manhattan,
with a maid on my mattress. I'm so dope, it's acid. Oh shit,
the flows so sick, is that the last of it? Blasphemy kid,
I'm always enacting these drastic rap tactis, both a wordsmith
and a blacksmith. Not only spittin' rhymes, but extractin' beats
out the 909, which is practically, in degrees, my heat all the time,
the faculties of your mind are designed to recline, cuz you
whack emcees couldn't hold a circle to my lines, I wax the streets
like a turtle so you slide, curl up and lie on your back,
so cracked it seems you forgot how to speak, when you get back up,
just try to hit rewind, cuz the last time I said shit,
I fractured your spine, this time I mastered your mind,
whacked third degree burns on your ego, like eggo's in the morning,
these are just nursery rhymes, I'm thirty times better than
my third year combined, I speak to those who are attracted to divine,
I practise all the time, write raps on my Feline if scrap paper I can't find,
think I'm jokin? You chokin' on smoke kid, and my shits steamin',
and yeah, in both ways your seemin' to be thinkin' of,
stinkin' fickle doves in love with 50's buzz, G-Unot hot enough
to stop my rush, like crushed cocaine in your nose veins,
your in lust with your bucks like (Cha-Ching)
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