the king is back.
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Lyrics
tha devil chose me to speak through/
or was it god who gave me these eyes to see truth/
who ever it was Ive been blessed w/ discreet clues/
which tell me ‘listen, follow me and noone will ever defeat you’/
so now I feel new, ill destroy crews, im crazy man/
run your gang, you annoy fools, im amazing fans/
picture the scene, this emcee wit slanted eyes standin up/
handed fine banded luck, prankin minds frankly suck/
You keep comin for more but I ignore your silly attempts/
Poison the air, pop your lungs talkin’s your only defense/
So Im knocking these cocky kids like rocky if all these miss/
If Lock keys fit, I rock these kids in secret documents/
You’re poppin mints, cuz your spits stink, this kid thinks/
That he can beat me, but really he sees me as the real king/
In conclusion the illusion of your greatness is a fantasy/
Take off your headphones, remove your mic and hand em to me/
Fuck a chorus.
Its another gay duo ph and double s/
What, stupid shit? Stating simply, I supply sick spits, next?/
Im finished wit you cats, make new raps? You do that/
You’ll be the first ones to tell a young un he’s got a cute ass/
You picked the wrong beat, real hip hop is your opposite/
Giving head to a gun is the the only time you cocking it/
So put this barrel in your mouth, ill remove the rear of your brains/
Give the rest your head a blowout, in fear of this pain/
Get a crowbar and beat you till you don’t know what you’re cryin for/
Raise the score I get more bored and beat you wit a two by four/
Its always 2 on 1, whatever have dk spit on it/
Your trinity will be like the backwards father son and spirit/
cuz you’re anything from holy, do anything to know me/
you’ll need more than SWAT to stop these bombs from exploding/
make this famed beat cease play, ill spit it accapella/
make this “dame dash” to tha “freeway” like rockafella/
you’re nothing, im tha illa nigga, spit it quicker,
than your little bit of liquor you’re a dick kissa shit it figures/
ill put so many “caps” to your head call me the madd hatter/
its like your anorexic, every one of my rhymes are phatter/
sit down this aint applause, it’s the sound of how my heat “claps”/
im sick of this silence from you so bring the beat back/
you cant match mine, amass rhymes, seems like a black mind/
speaks from my heart, I pack more nines until you flatline/
your rap skill is about as large as ja rules’ look/
letters the enemy of peter pan, only good at writing hooks/