big up all the monsta island massive
and beware before i triple dare you like the last kid
who asked me what we don't got that you got son
flow that's elementary my dear watson
least rhyme to the syllable
keep tracks that make a arab thief clap
i chopped these drums off
in this land of lyrical lost
i'm not the cool sleestak
the one who might stop and talk to you
niggas who be biting styles i'm like pork to
oooh.what you got to lose? let mud fly
when i got blues i chew whole crews that's bud dry
so i ask why the styes from the cess
shit be fucking with my eye as i pull it to the chest
the super motherfucking villain grip the mic with an iron hand
throwing emcees to the fire from out the frying pan
it ain't no use in trying
fronting like you death-defying
speak your piece only once you're spoken to first
now let me hear your verse while i'm choking you
with well refined rhymes like a editor
throw them to my collection of skulls and spines like predator
the only niggas who could hear the same sound
was jet jaguar and james brown
and i'm glad i took the time to write their names down to big 'em up
it's sci.fly the odd merlin
that's quick to whip up a script like rod serling
who eye on bad bitch who used to whip the sterling
who see god toke but never see god hurlin'
my man grimm had his little monkey like space ghost
me myself i got flavors that out-taste most
s to the u to the p e r-uh
who chronicle these times in a 3-d horror
thriller porno co-starrer in a realer drama
who break bread with stingy kin-men
lone gunman who candidly flip fly flows
single-handedly with one eye closed
may see me stack the quarter-mill cash pay
that's in a smash way how he did it
motherfucker probably couldn't peep it past a minute