microphone checka, pmc the dissecta
supplyin u with harmful flows like high blood pressure
rebel to the grain like inspectah
i tame brains and maintain the mainframe while shining like reflector
pursuin cash is a past time, now i crash lines and crack spines
for rap i'm the last line
of defense, left penniless from ur non-cents
i stay rich by rollin green in blunt objects
not complex, just wanna keep my pockets convex
peep the context;
dont need 2 be a gravedigga, i got tha 12 jewelz
rule number 1 in hip hop is fuck the rules
only other rule is survival of the fittest
u might be makin dough but u get spit on like a dentist
i sneak up on u like ghb
blunted from crystals of thc
and i serve u nasty like premade greens
im the th jeans, u bleach stained capris
thats enough, always keep my denims rough cut
my crew in together now, so shut the fuck up
its that common cause nigga on some doc & tical
try to bite mines u get ur jaw sockets ripped out
step up to the podium and dance with pandemonium
i'm lit as hell, strapped, totin metal like bromium
shot glocks like pop rocks in hot spots fellaz
u cant lock on to my arms with five cops fellaz
its like that, always with a 5th and a gat
u so whack i can only laugh at ya faget ass
i murder cats flowin when i speed up the hook
u spit so much written i should feed u a book
bout to spark spliffs on this track by cliff smith
ur rymes smell like u licked lil kim's clit
so dont forget the sic shit i spit is quickwit
cause pmc will haunt like a bad acid trip bitch
