Lyrics
Verse 1
I be the king and the don and the monarch of these streets,
I'm like a treat, like a feat, like a bag of boiled sweets,
Don't fuck around with me, I leave you under the sheets,
My win/loss record, it reads nil defeats,
I'm on some battlin' shit, these niggaz caught me vexxed,
I'll beat you hands down, be it sound or text,
Bring it on bitches, who's the next to step?
Vibin' to my beats, I leave you people perplexed,
I'm complex, like my beats and words,
I'm playing with adjectives, pronouns and verbs,
High off tha chronic, I ride, smokin' tha herb,
I'll come and hunt you down, scanning boro's and burbs,
Nuttin but a wanksta wit your fake ass clique,
Half you mutha fucka's got labia and a clit,
Bring it mutha fucka, you a bitch ass trick,
Hop off mutha fucka, finished ridin' my dick?
Verse 2
With that off my chest, I can shed some light,
I'm gettin' so hot, I think I might ignite,
See me in the hood you better be polite,
I paint it plain and clear, it be black and white,
Now the word play beginning and turntables spinning,
Weak ass emcees leave "Kracka" grinning,
In the race to the top, this "Kracka" right here winning,
Sit down bitch, it's the end of your inning,
Causin' no fuss, I think we ought to discuss,
You spittin' like a lama, think you better adjust,
Your shots be deflected like unaccurate thrusts,
To put it plain and simple, fuck'n cunt, you're a wuss,
I aint full of myself, I just face the truth,
I can read you like a chip, my name is "Blue Tooth",
Many mutha fucka's might call me uncouth,
But the fact of the matter, I'm a rolemodel youth,
I aint liked by parents, but do I give a fuck?
My trip to the top by hardwork and not luck,
My words hit your dome like a cap or hockey puck,
I'm fucking your bitch in the back of a pick-up truck,
Orthadox rap, "Krayzee Kracka" defying,
Watch your back people, mutha fucka's are dying,
