Lyrics
chorus
im the perfect storm
nd i perfect harm
ya pain is ma pleasure
u dyin a death here
im causin destruction
wid a vocal erruption
makin u breathe ya last
aint really mean a task
verse 1
a perfect mix of the good and the bad
i treat ya punches like food to a man
i eat em nd spit em right back on ya face
getchu reelin so bad i see ya back on ya face
im like an axeman wid a mic as ma axe
getcha self ripped to bits when i test ya tracks
now shut da fuck up watch as i show u death
nd we wont be needin a doctor to call u dead
i spit u death wen i gt it penned in ma brain
ya lines like grave inscriptions penned in vain
i "write dope" make u trip like u walkin a "tight rope"
like amatuer guitarists u never strikin the"right note"
