| Yo it’s the murder prequel serving heat at the third degree, bro
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| You rappers need to stay in your lane, and curb your ego
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| Hurt the beat, burning MC’s with the verbal free-flow
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| You rappers need to stay in your lane, and curb your ego X2
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| It’s the ravenous rap savages, damaging wack amateurs
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| Trapped in a black cavern, the hazardous track ravellers
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| Snap on you cats, snack on you rappers that act fabulous
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| Backing Jack, when I flatten twats in their jacked amulets
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| Fantabulous, feel the wrath of these gas canisters
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| All you rappers with lax to the track landed with Canibus
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| Handle this biz right, spit light, like the hammer click
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| The only time you shoot with those cannons is snap camera pics
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| Rap vandalist, with his hand on the can, angling
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| Dangling off the building, revealing the craft’s manuscript
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| Planning shit with candles, ripping anarchist with ganja lit
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| Popping tags, till I’m fucking drowning in Mandarin
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| Hand in the throne, battle your clique while I stand on my own
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| But rappers are running from me like I’m standing here banging the chrome
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| My hand when he strangle a clone
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| The seven we gang to the bone
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| Step into the cypher get beheaded like Ann Boleyn
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| Aight, enough about him, let’s talk about me
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| 'cause every now and then I gotta speak my piece
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| I could curb my own ego and still get it off
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| When I walk I break off chunks of Himalayan salt
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| I receive my blessings from projecting my love
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| I’d rather do that than stain swords with blood
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| Easy-peasy rice and cheesy but don’t get touchy-feely
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| Get punched in the neck for being greedy
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| My living quarters are cold with poisonous mold
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| Been living down here since zero years old
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| In the name of the Creator, I rose
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| Remove the millstone from my own neck bones, so i can spit what I wrote
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| In return, I was enhanced manifold and saw spiritual growth
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| For you to find out and for me to know
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| How I weld words together, separately plasma cut into letters
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| A ripper forever, nobody do it better |