Get lit, get lit, and get lit up
Don’t work when I light it up
Its flame on like Johnny storm

Battling born, master chief like I was born without a halo on
I’m waking you up like Cindy in children of the corn
It wasn’t all a dream, when I used to read The Source magazine
Nas, outkast and wu-tang all up in The Source Awards
It was my call of duty to be on the battlefield
You can be on a deadline like to catch a predator
It’s a hardline when we grind it always a short circuit
When the lights go off asking me if “they follow”
Gimme the hollows, I don’t need the halo’s to say hello
Get reborn, digitized when I realize I mentally exercise daily
You dumber than doorknobs, get open like suicide doors
I don’t need three wheels, I speed on dials that can’t clock
When I clock in, I punch the clock like Mike Tyson
You can come at me like we tight son
I orbit the sun, like the moon orbits the earth
My verses be written in cursive do you misunderstand it
Get gambling I’m rambling on friction when you kick fiction
I kick it realistically working hard every day at a job I hate going too
But shit keeps the lights on daily give me a opportunity
I’ll abandon ship and grip the grip of a ledge
Hard headed been deading optics when I drop it heavy on the mic
Still don’t think I’m too tight read it when I pick it up and write too it

Get lit, get lit, and get lit up
Don’t work when I light it up
Its flame on like Johnny storm