Yo man, hold up, hold up. Yo man, where my killer tape at? First of all, where the *** is my tape at? Yo son, I ain't got that piece, son. How you ain't got my ***, but I let you hold it, man? Yo, niggas came over to have 40s and blunts, kid. This *** just came out of history, son. Come on, man. I don't got nothing to do with my ***, man. Come on, man. Get ahead with that ***. Come on, man. I'll buy you four more ***ing killer tapes, man. Open the door, man. What the ***, man? Yo, what? What's up? Yo, yo, yo, God. Word is born. Yo, Sean Meek just got busted in his head two times, God. Real life, God. You know Sean Meek from ***ing 212, God. The nigga just got busted. Niggas in the black land, God. Word is born. Came through, God, from out of nowhere, God. Word is born. I'm coming to get my coach at Cypher, God. And they just... Word is born. Crazy shots just went the *** off, God. The nigga laying there like a ***ing newborn ***ing baby, God. Is he ***ing dead? The *** you mean, is he ***ing dead, God? The nigga laying there with his ***ing... All types of ***ing blood coming out of his ***ing... Yo, God, what's up, God? It's the God, God. Word is born. Yo, what's up? I'm ready to ***ing lay. I'm ready to get busy, God. What's up? It's the God, God. *** that, man. What the *** is he talking about? Get the *** out of here, man. God. On the tip. Get that mother***er. Yo, good morning, nigga. Yeah, good morning to all you mother***ing naughty-headed niggas. Go to the camouflage lodge, niggas. ***ing my body. Bring that ***ing message in, nigga. We gonna drink some big nightshade, nigga. Yo, yo, yo. Champion gear that I rock and get your boots knocked. Then attack you like a pimp, then lock *** down. Cause I'm huffing freaks to sound hardcore. But giving you more and more, like, ding. Not sure to get you open like six-packs. Hillary's attack, flipping what? Murder on fat tracks, alright? I kick it like a night flight. Work like I get that ass wall going spike. Check the method from bedrock, cause I rock your head to bed. Just like rocking what? Twin blocks. Shake the ground while my beats just break it down. Raw sound. Going to war right now. So, yo, bomb it. We usually take on niggas' garments. Save your breath before I bomb it. I be that insane nigga from the psycho world. I'm on the trigger. But if I got the Wu-Tang swords, then how you figure that you can't even *** with mine? Hey, yo, RZA. Hit me with that *** one time and pull a fair. Niggas say to be voted down. I'm milking this hoe. This is my show to cow. The *** you wanna do for this mic beef, dude? I'm like a sniper. I'm like Bucks. Hyper-Occitan. Singbrook. P.L.O. style. Buddha monks with the air. No other ***ing man but the cat. Wu-Tang style. I leave the mic in body bags. My rap style has the force to leave you lost like the Travis Shabazz. Murderous material made by a madman. Mr. Mike Brecker. Inspector. Batman from the badlands of the killer. Rap fanatic. Representing with a skilled ass killer. Dare to compare. Get pissed. Just like your ear. The suri-do I pop. Strictly hardware. Armed and geared. Cause I just broke out the prison. Charged by the system for murdering the rhythm. Now lo and behold. Another deadly episode. Bound to catch another ***ing charge when I explode. Slamming a hype-ass verse to your hate verse. I ramshack getting it tracking. That's that. Rap assassin. Faster. Quick to blast it. Hard rock. I ran up in spots like Fort Knox. I'm hot. Top notch. Ghost thinks with logic. Flashbacks. How I attacked your whole project. I'm raw. I'm rugged and raw. I repeat. If I die. My seed don't be ill like me. Approaching me. You out of respect. Chops your neck. I get vexed. Like crashing up a fat ass leg. So clear the way. Make way. Yo. Open the gates. Piece of mouth. Chanting like a runaway slave. Now. You're getting stripped from the garments boy. Buying your jewels. All the meth. Got me open like a Morbien tool. I bring death to a snake. When he least expect. And a damn fangtape. Boy. Protect your neck. Roll a zig zag. Take a large. Yeah. Mistado. Pick the stick. My Wu-Tang sword. Right through your navel. Suspenseful. Force being brought. Through my utensil. The pencil. I bring strong winds up against you. Ever. They run through your county like the maverick. Capsule the tablet. I gots to make the fabrics. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. Hot I'm hot. Hot I'm hot. Hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. I'm hot. So that you feel like a problem making them like roasting us on a bradecast. That's what Denzel Dick. Genetic psychology, killer. I was the thriller in the alley. Fraser Manila. I came down with backtracks to combine the interlock like getting smashed by center block. Bow. Now it's all over. Niggas. Seeing pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars, and green clovers.