"Raise your hands up, lateral thrusts into the sky, follow my music notes I will lead you like piper pied. out of the dark im lightening inside of a bottle I guarantee that there aint no mc that get u as hype as i. im complex no question, ninjas is alkali, in other words they basic, average personified. Im bout to occupy the rap game, bang on the industry, never be compromised so I dare em even try. I'll take the milli, put 50k in the kitty, assemble the rap committee and overthrow EMI. Im putting BAM at the table, with fable and sol messiah, only gods on the label no infidels need apply. Your arms too short to spar with elohim, ill cut you in five pieces so easy like steve mcqueen. Stepping razor, born from quasar, spitting mathematics like the first fives in asia. She danger.
Who is that 1-7 smelling herself, perspire on the track, and still fresher than most. Im rocking 5411s a afrika tee and leggings I beg you try and say im not aesthetically dope.
And when I write I put my lyrics in quotes, classic gold bars these rappers is phonetically broke. I give my riches to the poor and watch the bureaucrats choke, burn the wall to the ground and rock a show in the smoke. The underestimated blasted rap phenomenon, annihilate the negative just like a positron. im positive that once the sound start to echo that the rhymes turn the sinners to the chaste like its Ramadan. Im not fasting though, I'm slowly deposing the posers from the throne give the people what they asking for. The feminine principle spitting them syllables out the mandible and absolutely mastering them.
I am raw and uncut, no fillers in my delivery. Pillage an instrumental with flawless mental agility. Lyrically sadistic, I like to watch em squirm, lay a burner on the mikey then retire to the throne. How they dismiss me for intelligent flow and then get hype when a sucka chop and cooking up blow. Eating lobster in Versace shirts and flaunting their dough, while the people losing houses cuz their money got low. but truth don't sell and rappers is for hire, if 2 dope boyz post it up then its fire. Maybe not, but imma show yall fuego, hasta la victoria siempre like Canseco. Whats my angle? Libertad por la raza, watch me do my salsa, your bum cant back your mouth up so
Imma house ya. Wet you up, douse ya with some holy agua, watch my rhyme mantras coax the sly jinns up out ya." - SA-ROC