'til you step out of line
bag a bitch like phone time
every mother of the clique created
the heavy metal king hold big shit
you see the clips when the mac spit your top got split
layin' dead with open eyes close his eyelids
turn off his lights switch to darkness
it's deeper then the abyss
kid cold turnin men into mice
i was born to take power leave my mark on this planet
leave a foul taste in your mouth
we move like the special forces
the god p walk with a limp
test me you must be bent g
i had this full clip for so long
the reason why it full for so long
'cause i don't waste shit
i lay back and watch the world spin
claimin' that they gon' rob the mobb
i'm tryin' to make cream and that's that
whatever it takes however it gots to go down
four mics on stage a motha'fuckin' four pound
speakers leakin' out sound and niggaz leakin' on the ground
i could truly care less the god gon' get his
regardless blow for blow let's find out who hit hardest
this rap artist used to be a - stickup artist
sometimes i test myself see if i still got it
a live nigga stay on point never diss
regard shit or forget the essence
so save that bullshit for the birds
we flush through your clique get purged
my whole fleet keep it real
strike land like lightning
stick you with my devil horn again
pollutin' in a city near you
the infamous mobb on their job