no story. im old school man, i just spit over tracks.
Lyrics
check the chess moves/these rapper types move like pawns/with hardly any overhead my trigger talks like nam/im not the break type my pinnacle was reached last march/between G and the LAST WRITES my pencil is armored/partly where my backin find they straps unharbored/shit is mainstream like my bandit tat is flawless/like my wrist pop lock when im crossing out garbage/far bent since my bottle weight/semi gloss nozzle spray/deadly, my chapters keep the paperback heavy/then transform when that little switch click semi/pour the henny out/cops giving chase we call em "oh well''/rappers concentrate on hard deliver cuz the flow sells/chip chrome on the gravel running laps for the dope/they call me foes cuz my enemies are tired like spokes/tryin to cope got me hail mary holy and ghosts/trim the barrel so the 30 odd fit in my coat...
(chorus)
while im in the booth...still fill coffins.
while im in the booth/sweat smell like 80 proof/breath smell like gatorade/soft when they say my name/newz spit like treach i been naughty since them flavor days/tommy gun shoulder bruise wasted in them caman waves/haven made, north sacramento where my blood flows/fame is my convenant the system wants a thug though/i plug holes put notches on my belt where the snub goes/spit a few lines that leave you twisted like cut close/im upclose and personal like villians wear the mask tight/im iller than what ya crews illest two act like/the track insight riot like fires the mag type/the fast life/these dues aint even reading my raps right/they act like my venom burn flashing they hash pipe/im blowed too/this is for the 20 that know you/im so cool, burn a stack laughing til old noon/i told you ima narrate the shit that you go thru..
