The God P walk with a limp see, but simply
To simplify shyt, no man can go against me
Test me you must be bent G, don't tempt me
I had this full clip for so long, it needs to empty
The reason why it full for so long, cause I don't waste shyt
You properly hit, blood in your mouth, so you could taste it
Quiet as kept, I lay back and watch the world spin
I hear thugs, claimin that they gonna rob the Mobb
When they see us, I tell you what black, here's the issue
It's a package deal, you rob me, you take this missiles
along with that, I ain't your average cat
fukk rap, I'm tryin to make CREAM and that's that
Whatever it takes however it gots to go down
Four mics on stage a motherfukkin four pound
Speakers leakin out sound and nikkaz leakin on the ground
I could truly care less the God will get his
Regardless blow for blow let's find out who wear hardest
This rap artist used to be a stickup artist
Sometimes I test myself see if I still got it
A live nikka stay on point never diss
Regard shyt or forget the essence, from which I emerged
P is sick, so save that bullshyt for the birds
It might've been
but who isn't lying in this rap game
