Nigga I will rap a circle ’round, a circle ’round you
I navigate with wizardry throughout the Earth around you
Shout-out to Drake, no bitch could be the “Best I Ever Had”
My candy cane dick and mint balls
But she ain’t suckin’ if her breath is bad!
Sufferin’ Succotash right now I’m bubbling, fuck a past
Google me, hoochie groupie, watch what I come up as
I’m the man in this bitch, so by demand in this bitch
Now, bitches want my attention like the Canibus diss
You ain’t got no mechanical mandible quit handling dick
We liked you before the army, now we ain’t a fan of your shit
You know my MAC pop, Detroit is my backdrop
Now, shut your ass up and go have some sex with your laptop
Ha, you too nerdy I’m too scurvy, one gun pointed at your head
My silhouette lookin’ like two-thirty
The only thing in this life I can’t fight is violence
Bar Exam 3 dropping same night the fight is
You sleeping, I’ll take a knife and aim right for your eyelids
(Slaughterhouse!) Right, I got an insane cypher
And if you step in my lane, claiming you way nicer
I’ma be wiping your brains off of my Range wipers
I will handle you, the .357 gon’ handled, dude
The barrel stick out longer than the handle do
I’ll shoot you, your crew, and the cops riding with you
I got issues, they call me “Shots Fired” Nickel
Equivalent to the psychical lock by a pitbull
To whip me is impossible
Rock a pinnacle, drinking the opposite of subliminal thinking
Compared to y’all, I’m a don, a criminal kingpin
I see why these niggas wanna run
When I invite them to the loneliest place in the world one-on-one
And tell your mama I’m a baller
Matter fact, tell your mama I’ma call her
Hurricane flowing like water, I’m grounded like Katrina
I sound like I fell in all New Orleans
Allow me to go Dionne Warwick (Warwick!)
And make a prediction for the future drama, I’m for it
You just melodic artists
I bring all of my private parts to your private party
And stick ’em inside your daughter
Psychotic aura, the hat on my head is not a fedora
The reason why your wifey’s bottom is sorer
Benzino the hardest nigga? You know don’t know him for hammers
You know him for talking shit with Norey behind the cameras
I blam at you I damage you
Wait—did I just say “blam at you and damage you?”
Fuck it! These niggas amateurs
I handle toasters, I’m feeling like my Grammy closer
And your bitch can feel a “ping” like Emani Poster
Walkin’ around with handheld ovens that ring
Or change your color like Sammy Sosa
I’m sicker, man, who grosser?
I spit it from the stomach with a ulcer
And if you want it, you can come in closer
And experience the taste of a knuckle sandwich
Waste your father, waste your mother, fuck your parents
Play with me, you know you playing on All-Madden
You all that until your potato get au gratin
You all phony, Tony Montana
‘Til I stick you in the dirt and call you Earth-tone like fall fashion
Haha! Pardon, I had to laugh at that one
Usually I laugh at rappers
Wrap both of my hands around they Adam’s Apples and squeeze
Until they see the light inside the tabernacle
No coming back from that one!

You know Royce gon’ kill y’all niggas, right?
Ha! That nigga’s crazy!