Lyrical Warfare

This is lyrical warfare and I'm tryin' to top Saddam when I drop bombs/

and spit missiles with heat seekers straight at you on any beat through your speakers/

My rhymes give sick visuals, punch lines hit like six pistols,

and this flow could blow you out your seat or sneakers/

When I'm in the lab I mix syllables into beakers/ I'm the one you need on the features/

Roll that weed lets burn some reefer/

while these haters spread gossip like preachers/ only cuz their mad their on the bleachers/

and cuz my bars are sweeter than three liters of tea/ and their shitty like illiterate mind readers/

That's why whenever I stand they sit cuz they know I'm legit/

and I'm gonna get/ this shit done/

I'll tell this bitch this is it Hun/ I murder rappers by the tons/ pick them off as they come/