| The monster, the man they call mad
|
| Is turned loose and is driving terror in the hearts of men
|
| I give a fuck about you weak ass, dirt cheap ass
|
| Not one of you motherfuckers could ever see me ass
|
| If this was the first fight then I’m Nate Diaz
|
| If not that, then I’m Connor in the rematch
|
| I got your woman complaining about her knee caps
|
| You cock sucking fucking d-bags
|
| You ugly on the inside, disguise as something sweet ass
|
| You make the Garcia in me show up to fucking beat ass
|
| Nobody can match the hustle the fucking 3−0-3 has
|
| Jedi Mind Tricks like my name was Vinnie P-az, I be that
|
| Young wicked better believe that
|
| I started from the bottom never be back
|
| Year of the sword and we got fourteen releases
|
| Y’all don’t even but some of y’all needs Jesus
|
| I got mini mac 11 and do whatever he pleases
|
| Man appease but I cut them to pieces, live-r than Regis
|
| Higher than venus, I got a fly trap
|
| Motherfuckers swelling up, give em an ice pack
|
| I’m pulling up in the Range Rover, me and the chainsmoker
|
| G-Mo got the cannon like Ganon it’s game over
|
| I’m in the boss mode, speaking for the lost souls
|
| Get in my cross hair send you to the crossroad
|
| I’m Mike Myers to these Rob Lowes
|
| This ain’t Wayne’s world but I party on bro
|
| Bomb’s go blaaow
|
| Wicked underground tell me if you feel
|
| If it’s dope then I’ma deal it
|
| I was born to be a killa and my people staying down
|
| (Everytime I come around tho you can hear)
|
| You’ve come to the dark side of the sun
|
| The Honey Badger and the Prodigal one
|
| Call us the axe, knife and the gun
|
| All of the clock ticking, the plot thicken
|
| And what is done I’m not giving a fuck about you
|
| Or anyone who’s against me or they empty to any
|
| I’m a verbal assassin and I’m hurtful when spazzin'
|
| On the couch you tempt me I’ma soak 'em in gas and
|
| Light 'em up with a match and let them beg for mercy
|
| I don’t give a fuck what you heard
|
| Let’s see who listens when we murder all the sheep in the herd
|
| And who’s dissing when we join
|
| To spit in every word that’s so hard
|
| Hitting 'em certain bars risen
|
| Reason only winning ninja who bombs city
|
| Emerged from the God giving another chance to survive in it
|
| Bitch I don’t need to claim no game
|
| I’m a motherfucking ninja, that’s what I say
|
| I don’t need to fuck with you or the bitch you bring
|
| Cause a motherfucking ninja don’t play
|
| I’m here to make the blood rain from the sky
|
| Everytime I step in the booth I can’t lie
|
| We’ll be yelling at the top of our lungs «we don’t die»
|
| We was talking about us, not yours so bitch bye
|
| I’m a walking middle finger you can see it in my eye
|
| And getting high is the only reason having you alive
|
| Bomb’s go blaaow
|
| Wicked underground tell me if you feel
|
| If it’s dope then I’ma deal it
|
| I was born to be a killa and my people staying down
|
| (Everytime I come around tho you can hear)
|
| Ay yo Young Wicked I got pads for the hoes knees
|
| She can keep sucking dick and charging the bro’s fees
|
| We can take the money and use the proceeds
|
| To make it rain on these broke rappers with no cheese
|
| Faggot, bloodbath when I slaughter the whole team
|
| You would think a motherfucking horse had a nosebleed
|
| (Filth!) Roll weed while I compose these dope schemes
|
| Release a virus when I’m rhyming, nigga don’t breathe
|
| They try to pull competitive maneuvers
|
| Now they in the torture rack but they ain’t wrestling with Luger
|
| Executive producers getting thrown to the grave
|
| Engineer’s dead and your studio is in flames
|
| Bitch I’m growing insane when I drop tabs of acid
|
| You suffocated when you got wrapped in plastic
|
| Come to your wake, swanton bomb the casket
|
| Open up a can of ass whip on your grand kids
|
| Fuck a rap list if I ain’t in your top ten
|
| You’re must not be listening to real hip-hop then
|
| I’m going crazy with the ball pen
|
| Look at what my song’s did
|
| They all getting under your skin (pussies)
|
| Now who you know with more of a raw flow
|
| Put 'em in the ground, turn that nigga in the compost
|
| You can eat shit and die slow
|
| Bitch you finna get the wombo combo when the bomb’s go blaow
|
| Bomb’s go blaaow
|
| Wicked underground tell me if you feel
|
| If it’s dope then I’ma deal it
|
| I was born to be a killa and my people staying down
|
| (Everytime I come around tho you can hear) |