nigga your flows so stale, its like lyrical flail! nigga countrymen and lovers! logicality is your flaw, the basis of your reason is contempt among men! more enlightened than an Indo monk? nigga I'll destroy you with my LYRICAL ZEN! It seems like the coast's got you rusty man, the ghetto's got a place for you, DAMN. See you 2 week from now nigga, you'll be spittin crime! your rhymes'll be so ill, you wont NEED a gun!
nigga stop saying nigga, it’s getting stale like an old wives tale. guns aint for everyone, but g, i’ll be holding up the viscinity, with my obscenity, and my desert-eagle-mini-me. lyrical zen? yo a lyrical HEN! squawkin’ out yo verses, like a chip-chap-chirpin, give me something fouler to be workin’ with
nigga... you gotta try opening up your mind a lil! you for sure got potential to make rhymes that kill! music aint gotta be ill, music aint gotta be. the freshest flow's from the heart, all the fakest niggas toppin the charts! artificial flow's whats gotten whack, seems like Tyler wants to join that attack. nigga look deep! deeper than your excavated bowels, deeper than the baskets in your dowels!
fuck open my mind? open yours! instead of just peepin’ at my lyrical flaws. just cause i’m high up on the chart, don’t mean my smack don’t come from heart. i’m rollin’ in this ill emotion, starting tricky street commotion, but on the inside, this thrill ride will take the best of my hide.
UH! YEAH! its jaya! hot like a furnace faya! ripping up tumblr like a fast food diner! flow so fresh my rhymes spit tic tacs, nigga so swag, records on an 8 track. lock up your bitches, gotta have safety invest. when Jaya comes round theyll need a chastity belt! yeah! uh HUUHHHH
fuck fuck fuck, nigga g, fuck. you seem to be dope fresh out of luck. stumbl’d across this 8 ball muck, now yo shit’s gonna be made to suck. i aint need no beat, but aw shit i’m stuck.