Ain't worth saying I'm fucking dope, unless I prove it...
Palm pilot, wings on each side, decide if it's 'fly' music
Besides, dudes is pitiful, now...
Fucking imbeciles, while they talk on the kid...
Find out, outside of my mouth? Is where confidence lives...
Wondering how I even got me the crib...
If it was up to my haters, they could decide a spot on where my property is.
But, until that day? The skill in the flow, is killing 'em, slow.
I'm under the spotlight. Still at the show.
Going up higher, to leave the ceiling, exposed. Often get cold, so...
I hold these syllables, close. Kill 'em with a bunch of filler,
n' go until they can't feel it, no more. However, I am real to the core.
Iron Guerilla, inside of Attila, for sure.
And I know it's easy to do this, they see the influence.
If you can't teach, then at least read to the students.
Seems to me the schemes are congruent, it's natural..
Me, leading the movement. Firing off, at will.
No desire at all, they lie on my balls, n' chill. Shooting at half court...
Rasputin of rap, -sporting a flat top... I know how these cats talk
through the microphones of their laptop.
I mean, that thought alone, is why they can't ask Taut
to step in a battle rap, not unless they can slap-box.
Tell Nintendo, I am the last Fox. Limitless with time, running on fast clocks.
Isn't that the usual for me? Trivial, though.
Introducing something new to the story, proves you're unworthy.
Alexei Navalny, getting wake up calls, at two in the morning...
The MF Doom of recording a tune for you so that your crew can absorb it.
Bringing 'em back to the old school - every move is euphoric.
I open the doors for you, so it's elementary that you should explore it.
You know the bottom line? It's a character expression...
- but not as fine. Pushing back until you feel your spinal column, grind...
The cerebral of Professor X, collapsing the walls, inside of his school for gifted youngsters.
It's a trip - the real Storm, dripping thunder.
In a Tundra. Your innards? They finna' plunder to my plate. Open your eyes, mate.
As you lie, in a suicide state. Watch every line coincide with the crime rate.
- at an obtuse angle, but, I'm setting your mind, straight.
Finally reaching cabin pressure, which is why I won't battle you 'fly' weights...
However, I'll take you under my wing.
Freedom of expression? ..it's a wonderful thing.
Waking up the masses so that I can humble the king.