Step up

YEAH! I'm ready! You want it? Come get it!

Who's ready to aproach me?

OGs steppin over eachother hoping to smoke me.

Ho please. You can't do shit but blow trees.

I don't see anybody ready for plenty of hell in the city.

It's shitty. You just don't entertain me. You're lamey.

But as I lay me down to sleep, I dream of an adversary

that varied from every enemy. Energy here appears to be

low.

It's stone cold like Austin.

The thought's in my head, but no dogs are barkin.

It's boring. And I'm startin to doze off.

But if you'll half ass it, then don't knock. The door's locked.

But if you'll get hot like stove tops, and throw pots,

pans, hands, and throw rocks, and show glocks.

POW! POW! Four shots, you just dropped.

Just don't come weak or show off what you don't got.

I won't stop or play possum. Joke? Not!

No spot for low lots with no props.

Oh god, I know not the whole plot,

but somehow, I'll walk out right on top.

You want it? Grab it. Come get it.

But just remember, you willed it.

So when you're wilted, and pissed,

just think of what could compell you

to make that foolish descision.

Did you envision a win when it finished?

Step up and feel the wrath of a menace.

BITCH!!!