I'm Vicious

I gotta rip out my lungs just to say what i want,

a slip of my tongue could put a bomb in your palms.

I'm of twin of Bin La-den with his skin white-ned

replace your fire hydrant with the oil im hiding.

Run five miles and hide in a box with mice in,

locked from inside with my wives, eight...

Sixty four short but hay.. I still want more.

Why am i still poor, why is my skill so raw,

why does sky roar whenever i hold the mic and talk?

It's because im fucked ain't it, the way grew up made it... so,

the flames i throw up display and leave a mound of coal,

the ground i pound leaves round gaping holes,

a storm forms and from the fissures rise pillars like-

twisting caterpillars, an alter pillages the grass

and leaves mask of ash, i aint mean, im vicious.