Glad

So now you know everything about me, right? Okay, what turns me on? We do. We South Carolina's sickest, No crunk beats for you silly bastards My clique Is the sickest on the come up like Philly Rappers You a shitty actor, portraying MCs, You backwards We slay MCs at a three-sixty degree Axis Smash this, leave a hundred and eighty MCs Backless Half-dits with a ninety-degree turn away From a fat bitch Rhymes stay drastic, All you bringing is wack shit Hit you with A classic soon as we hit a track, hit The Z-Sinner, lust make calm MCs shiver I seen More shit than the Congaree River Far from being Wack, these new rappers, they feed on Similac Baby Fed biters taste my shit, they done been attacked I snatch that mic from ya, don't fight hunger 'Cause you can catch more samples of beats than Ninth Wonder When I call out my Syndicated Scene Hitters I'm fucking up more rappers' careers than Squeeze triggers It ain't a question that this shit Is the bomb Nigga, Standin' On the verge of, you know the song I Give a fuck if you believe it or not Got your whole block sayin' truth I got a Itchy finger, yeah, the trigger scratches that If It's beef, best believe some nigga catchin' that It Is suggested that I am the best in rap Respect this fact 'fore your fucking breath get Snatched Stretch your ass like an elastic ass Quick As a fat boy crack a crab Back on The Ave, we used to go bag for bag The first to know, always the last to ask Cool Breeze with a toothpick, I hock too spit You a common cold, not too sick I got You gripped by the collar, dog They want the Real deal feel, then tell 'em all to holler 'cause You got dogs, woof woof, Better call 'em off Mic victim, kill you, Pits and Rottweiler dogs There's no wilder dog, Call me the savage beast Savage murder, Make burgers from dead maggots and meats It ain't A question that this shit is the bomb Nigga, Standin' on the verge of, you know the song I give a fuck if you believe it or Not Got your whole block sayin' truth I Spit a sixteen and watch the masses Bleed Raise a sharp dog at your heart, Casualty I'm in the spot where the hammers be No love for the other side, I'm about family Syndicated dark side, that's my cavalry Platoon Doom, C-4, two pounds a piece Two-two-three cocked Back at war with the beast Four-by-four Conky, I lay tricks up my sleeve Concrete jungle on The block where we rumble Never talk to police, Never knocking the hustle Get yours 'cause I'ma get Mine Every time, line for line, Crime on my mind You do dirt, you get Dirt, eye on the prize You's a fake rapper, Danek Harvey mask in disguise Slap cats backwards, Black in they eye This one's for my people Just tryna get by It ain't a question that This shit is the bomb Nigga, standin' on the Verge of, you know the song I give a Fuck if you believe it or not Got your whole The rap game's full of carbon Copies Faggot rappers that move poppy Get conquered By the game like Jumanji Who got beef? It's a pity that we hate y'all Give an Inch and they gon' take yards Slip and we Can face off, turn your city to a graveyard Everything I write's hard like I scribe it in A rock wall Got more bright bars than lights On cop cars Betting life on dice if the Price is right Rob 'em while they rich before They plateau Attack mode is fucking insane, Spit flames like a pistol Rearrange my visual, Modern-day miracle Bloody ritual, putting a slug in Your brain and spirit too Hear the truth from The booth, plug it off in your living room Living proof, only the rugged and sick material Spit Sick disease shit like thick venereal Imperial, Bursting the holy walls of Israel Cataclysmic Pattern of warfare that's chemical