The Microphone Molesta
   The chevy undresser
   Stupid dope fresh tight shit resurrector
   Top gun man mod best of the besta
   The living MC peace and resta
   Still tested the flexed gunna
   The make funna the appisary make runna
   Make summa cold with rhymes that spit
   Get gifted, lifted, deliquent wit
   I be the prophet, in my hand
   Top it, stop it, felt like rockin when I rock it
   Locked it down with this perverse verse
   Every fuckin curse I burst to hurt
   Room crowds physical fitness rhymes
   Coke heads couldn't do my lines
   Decorated like christmas pines with Italian rocks
   MCs become silohetes in shock
  
   Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
   Losing my pride will save it in many days
  
   Hit the dirt
   Because the words I spit will do more than just rip your shirt
   I'll bitch slap your soul
   Track the track control
   You coming at me?
   You can't hack it though
   So rediculous
   Watching my crew get sick of this
   Wickedness
   Pitchin this
   Lyrical brichisness
   To crews and cliques
   Maiden, men, and mistresses
   This is my life
   The twilight, the fight night
   And trying to see nothing but the highlights
   When I write
   These eyes on horizons
   Top of Mike, start cries on to Krylon
   Fire on, rude men telekenetically
   As aterically beats become a clarity
   Feel averity's heroism, and heracy
   And severe every MC I see with Neverity
  
   Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
   Losing my pride will save it in many days
  
   Why not
   What a keep
  
   Why not
   What a keep
  
   Why not
   What a keep
  
   Why not give me what I came to deserve
   Why not give me what I came to believe
  
   Why not give me what I came to deserve
   Why not give me what I came to believe
  
   Reading my eyes will say it in many ways
   Losing my pride will save it in many days