Your skills lack while I'm still strapped
With real raps, and feel that I should kill wack
nikkas that peel caps and that ill crap
Bigger threat than you with your tech when I rip the set
nikkas get smoked like a cigarette, so hit the deck
Watch ya chin, nikka, Ho-chi-min when I rock my shyt
When it comes to props I get lots of it
I can get Madonna, money, your threats are minor
And bet you find your girl with a wet pajama
Drippin with my cassette behind her
Got more band trail than your hand's sellin
Fans scalin, jam railin like it's Van Halen
Skills scored high on billboards, I kill frauds
Get real applause steal broads' hearts at will force
Hate a mark, skills lay a squad, and pray to god
Don't say a hard verse worse than a plate of lard
Percee P wanted for first degree
Murder, since you heard it first from me, you worshipped me
fukkin threat, you heard nothin yet
No need for buckin techs, but rappers to duck in fret or upper-jet
Mastered art, yo, when I flow something drastic starts
Speed up a b*stard's heart, great like jurassic park
I cut you up like a sharp machete blade
Swear to god, only card you can pull if it's Medicaid
Done with all this gun shyt, fukk who you run with, son split
The only thing you shoot is your dikk, and it comes quick