Im fittin to start kickin lyrical styles
That will have you and you patnas trippin out
From the way that i be kickin em
Spiritual lyrics that will have you thinking about
Tha pimpin child, drinkin and livin wild
Tell me, was it worth it child?
Where you from? Northern Cal, West Coast, from the yay
You know patna up in Frisco
Next to San Jose
We call it tha dirty bay, sucka free golden state
Oh in the suburbs
Next to Donald Trump?
Naw I cant relate
Im from the killin state, playa hate if you wanna
On me tha Don, Miss Shila E-Doggie Montana
Under boss from Nicaragua
12 years in that game, still maintain
A reputation to give rappers nightmares like Dana Dane, Oh Mang
Is what thay scream when i tough the mic
Cuz my style is so cold,
Im know to leave MCs wit frost bite
So, dont get bitten,
Lyrics that Ive written is know to swallow up MCs like cornbread chittlans.
BURP!
12 years on this mic still, droppin rhyme skillz, reachin hustlers Gs
Gangstas, and em playas, purpatraders
That need G-O-D
Like these rappers kids I left
Layin wit mics up in the Platinum Hearse
Dont be trippin when I am rippin Micraphones
The Boney Bone is giving all praises to Jevoah on tha throne
Thats why, I dont rap for chips or you
I rhyme
for the Father, son, the Holy Ghost and em gangstas too
I preach the word wherever theres a need
To tha pimp, drug addict, prostitute, and convicts smokin weed
Beliave in ya heart,
The Lord Jesus Christ is tha son of God
And that he rose from the grave on the 3rd day
And you can be saved from, Fire and Brimstone, PAin Gnashing of the teeth
Tha lake of Fire
Swimming in the belly of the beast
All you addictions, snorting blow, drinkin, and smokin reef
Poppin pills on tha daily
Just to make it through that hectic week
If he did it for me
He can do it for you too
If he did it for Paul and Mary Magdalene tha prostitute
Then he can do it for thugs too
So Im a pop my collar, and halla
Tha Father blessed me wit Dollars and Rap Scholars
That is hotter than burning lava
12 years on this mic still, droppin rhyme skillz, reachin hustlers Gs
Gangstas, and em playas, purpatraders
That need G-O-D
I swallow MCs down my esophagus
Every lyric I spit is phat like a hippopotamus
For instance I burn MCs like incense
Wit a style thats deadlier than O.J. Simpson
You wanna battle
Then you better think twice
Cuz Im know to leave MCs careers extinct
Like Vanilla Ice, Stetsonsonic, Young MC,
But not T still be rhyming in 2003 4,5,6 7
Show up to a showdown with a mic as my only weapon
Ahhh, Oh, Im on point like Ron Harper
Rappers couldnt fade me even if they where a barber
Wit a pair of clippers or scissors
It dont matter
You one hitter quitters jealous cuz Im makin em chippers
Oh wee, commin outa killa-call and like pac said
We wear them chucks not tha balleys
12 years on this mic still, droppin rhyme skillz, reachin hustlers Gs
Gangstas, and em playas, purpatraders
That need G-O-D