[Verse 1]
Yo, you could throw me in a lineup rough beat
Thick nine in my shines up
Let it [?] rocks planet like Soul Teens
Worth about 600,000 in the auction
I still jog in the hills of Brazil
Twelve eggs and my conditioning coach is Anderson Silva
He’s a prized fighter and me, I’m a prized writer
Time their industry niggas recognize fire
Boric acid makes me rising
Don’t stand under the tree 'cause my flow is lightness
Some say I should be prosecuted death by lethal injection
Electrocuted or Malcolm Xin'
[?] bitch in the club distraction
And if that don’t work then it’s on to the next one
Beef we can let me cook fried to perfection
Got the bulldogs snug [?]
[Verse 2]
Ayo, my moms never knew that she was nursin’ a wolf
And I wrote this on 9/11, covered in soot
Spittin’ tobacco out my mouth and claim over chicks
Posting on her [?] waiting to squeeze
They on point like the nose of a Marlin, Spartacus brothers
Pressing out pushes and public, nigga, you stolen away
Nowhere to run, faggot, I’ll grab your ear
[?] stay fresh like I back again
Goose coats, yachts, diving off of big boats
My bitch pedicured up with a sick throat
So cold, making you stutter
“I-i-i c-c-can’t believe Ghost is still gutter!”
[?]