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Big ups to 91.5 live from cold k-dubJust reminding all my guys in the world to stay upNever had to spray slugs so I dont play thugOr try to fit with the killers like O.J.s gloveStill cats love to see me like their own pay stubsOut to create buzzknow that s.k. can shake clubslike car thieves or golferscrazy compulsive cold killer so ill Im giving competition ulcersFierce frenetic poetic pierce the pathetic plaguesMy powerful prophetic poetics penetrateThis renegade relic raps rugged and demonstratesHow to scoop honnies with nothing but that angelic faceAesthetic-based waste get shredded, I set it straightFor the hapless half-wit homies that hesitateThe hellagreat, elevated skills you celebratePractice??? Kid ive been this ill since seventh-gradeI dedicate this to my sis and the crewThanks for coming out but the competition is throughI get down All the suckas and frauds with soft stamina dont trouble meDuck or Ill damage ya on camera publiclyWhen I utter these subtletiesLetras de cancionesBrother pleaseIm the biggest thing out of Canada since Pamelas double-dsColleagues and critics all apply the accoladesTo apply describe how my flyness fascinatesI activate the part of meThat advocates the artistryThe slick, sharp tongueThat would lacerate your arteriesLike an axe to the heartHackin apart cats lackin the smartsCuz Ive mastered the artI synchronize my syndicateFor rhyme syncopationEven skits that I improviseSit in syndicationLet my sinful syntax and simple grin flashcause dimes fall victim when my dimples impactCats listen close for quotes or vibe to itI school dudes and make guys students of my musicThe dumb sound dopest with their mic lines mutedWhile my iq is so high you couldnt fly to itI get down My language is usedTo bruise and stick damages toOther bands and their crewsWhile all their slick managers doIs just bandage their woundsThis man is just too sick for Canadas amateursI make em dudes do flips like coin tossesWhen I rip mics like loin clothesStripped off a groinJoin the clik or get goingKid your showing softnessI cross kids like Hot Sauce doesWhile imposters talk and jock like Bob CostasThis colossus is so pompous its preposterousIm always jamming like Peter Toshs rastasGetting the thoughtless tossed quicker Than The Moffats in a mosh pit, homesI get down like acrostic poemsMy resources hold more forcesThan the torque on 400-horse PorschesI contort, twist and torch kids With my oral orificeTil these dorks is nothing more than some scorched corpsesI get down Its like Im squeezing a glockWhen I creep in the spotPeople get shot back Freeze and then flop, breathe and then stopThe way I leave em in shockForget radio they play my flow on (Ripleys) Believe it or NotBut I still dont own the keys to the dropLeasin to cop the beach with the yacht and dont forsee reaching the topBut thats cool cause Im frequently jocked from speaking this talkPlus on the streets I get propsWell before I leave peace to the blocksWhere my people still beef with the copsAnd get beaten a lot, it needs to get taughtAnd ask Kanye, Jesus can walk Already reach for the rock, not the heat to get cockedReleasing the shot, ending a lifeNo need for the popYa heard? like sheep with the flock I get down From Letras Mania