| I’m the durable mammal, Moka Only the complete
|
| Abnormality, fatality mega, don’t you sleep
|
| It’s dephtrimental that you set your mental clock right
|
| So you can catch the prime example of those who rock right
|
| I talk tight, my mic’s made of alabaster
|
| Cast a shadow beside of mount shout before I smash ya
|
| I promise to be the bonus, I gotta say that
|
| You want to die, well you can be accomodated
|
| To be honest, you sock like Homnus
|
| To be on another plateau you gotta rap pro or become sawdust
|
| I husk a bone on that ass with no exceptions
|
| Been ill since my conception, I’ve come for the collection
|
| Same old cash respecting bitches, I can’t front yo
|
| Busy Bee went back to the hotel and spelt his name in dough
|
| I’m hella pro, a rappers work is never done
|
| I like necks, I think I’m about to sever one
|
| I put my pressure on the corner to cave the box in
|
| This time I sawed in my breath and rhymed circles of sin
|
| See, if I don’t reanimate the meat-grinder's brain
|
| In the A-Wing, we’re grey things, petrude from my grey rings
|
| My collection of strange things include
|
| A barrel delivering like a Winchester in a pool full of crude
|
| Oil in my turmoil, ridden block of ill rythem-wear
|
| Cracken cockroaches, talk about class divisionsy
|
| I’m not stuck-in-the strucken function
|
| I adapt to the place I hear the bass pumping
|
| Keep every rhyme different, that’s a sign of affection
|
| Keep a bag of Buc Fifty’s of my cabinet of men
|
| Make sure the door’s locked, and the dead-bolts fastened
|
| Your worst nightmare that shares no compassion
|
| Acid flashbacks, get hacked up into fractions
|
| Seargeant Roadkill, still missing in action
|
| An unaffectionate day, I’m section A
|
| Let’s play, you be the bride of death and decay
|
| Do you stay awake at night thinking of the things you should worry about
|
| Follow this bloodtrail and hurdle through the forest of doubt
|
| Till I’m out in the wide open plains hoping to maintain
|
| The same yield, but the field’s littered with corpses
|
| Death is my departure, till then I’m explosive
|
| An overdose of death, spare me no grill
|
| I’m rare, send me on ill will, I’m there
|
| The last man standing, never call a truce
|
| Apoligize, nah, strength needs no excuse |