| [Verse 1: A La $ole] | |
| I'm running with some of the illest flows | |
| Pro Era bringing the ruckus, we killed them all | |
| Brawl or fall, keeping this shit above it | |
| I buzz like a bumble, drop jaws whenever I rumble | |
| You said you write rhymes, but it sound like you got carpal tunnel | |
| Or arthritis, I might just all night this | |
| This priceless so how you gon' change overnight, kid? | |
| My style all wild, chapow, you floored now | |
| Jump out and stake in my waters until you all drown | |
| Revealing you all now, fake cats get put to sleep | |
| The young vet, we hold the minds that you perceive | |
| I bump shit from Long Beach, I call it treason | |
| My nigga I'll take your soul, kick your shit for no reason | |
| You fools doo-doo, better off being neutral | |
| Cause I go cuckoo, the serial and then I nuke you | |
| Sexy bitch, the kamasutru', I make them useful | |
| Shorties tried to lock me down, but that's that shit I'm used to | |
| This shit is crucial, fuck Facebook, our friends ain't mutual | |
| I won't remove you, I'll just let the karma shoot you | |
| This what the brew do, 40 ounce, I'm fucking with sours | |
| You niggas cowards, softer than towels, the world is ours | |
| [Verse 2: Dessy Hinds] | |
| Check the verbal attack, it's early in the rap | |
| To leave you in a surgical strap | |
| Then get your verse dispursed with a thirst for snipping raps | |
| All killers scrap with a thriller latch | |
| You got a sick beat? My heartbeat sicker, call it a iller batch | |
| They think the RZA's back or the GZA's back or the Jigga's back | |
| Nah sorry to disappoint it's just this nigga killing tracks | |
| With no complications from this skilled content playing | |
| Leave you contemplating from the combinations of your compilations | |
| And I never fathom just get at 'em with every last atom | |
| Subtract then add em to the battle list | |
| That can't scrap with some animals | |
| Stay with the antidote for those that always have MC fear | |
| For you know the regular Beast Coast | |
| But the coast gonna never be clear | |
| He'll always kill the style because it don't get better by each year | |
| Each other minute a missing life just becomes a leap year | |
| Cause after life it's known we coming after life | |
| Niggas couldn't see him after life | |
| With half the mics he kill in after life | |
| Could you pass the mic for the train of thoughts of assasin knights? | |
| A shot at every verse with the IllMinded is the one you have to snipe.(Nigga).. | |
| Ughh...What y'all really want? | |
| [Verse 3: CJ Fly] | |
| Ain't ever meet someone iller, then some meat with salmonella | |
| We go in with the flow like salmon in the river | |
| Made so many hits, no catch 22 | |
| Gotta drive to get the cake you old bats better batter up too | |
| We got the mitts to beat you | |
| Go ahead or go long | |
| It's me who ya' killin' | |
| I'm always feeling her up | |
| Love letting me hold the cups, shit get frisky | |
| Up for grabs like ooooo I hear the liquid cat's fishy | |
| We'll just wait till this dogs finish his swimming | |
| Catch it when we catch it threw it at me, a conflict in the kitchen | |
| Palms of fingers itching | |
| Figured out if I'm killing 'em then that's gon make me richer | |
| This money ain't a joke I won't play dumb so I won't get it | |
| A instrumental tempo strings to make it come to spin it | |
| The truth I bent it, the rules I bend it | |
| Taking selfies with fans, we 'pendent | |
| Send your girl, I'll curse her fucking panties | |
| Could you imagine in a year I don't have my fucking band did? |
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