I'm wordtastic, curb ratchet, you herbs wack I spit crack, leave your pop filter smelling like burnt plastic I'm just flipping words, my shit is verbal gymnastics Now please chill and observe, practice I literally consider myself a literary master Smoking cannabis with me before a show could be a disaster I'm obscene as every hood movie black pastor Fuck blastin', when I see you I'ma smack past ya This is track number 3 with the legend from Boston Wow, I'm wicked awesome I'm the type to skip and enforce them in Boston They're tripping, taunting, need to get floored in the lipper Put that shit to the floor, son I'm iller than illa, placenta fill us with raw some Syllables, I just toss them In the such intricate patterns you would think I run out of shit to say But all you can do is pray, 'cause I'm not done Back and my shit is vicious, I caught my glass of riches Sick and sticking syringes and hit bitches, I'm twisted, we mask up And we go hard in the Winter Hard in guerrillas, father their children The clattered tat of pharmacies Think it's a robbery, it's like the lottery to us Poverty struck us and molded us just like poverty dishes Youngins hunting for victims, pop 'em for doctors to fix 'em Shoutout to them jaw-twitching bitches, let me shove my rock in their kitchen for crumbs I get down, prescription pill on my tongue, shit I used to be young, now I'm as sick as they come It's vicious malicious and I'm the terror that ripped through these slums Blind to the risk I confront every day gripping my gun, living like scum I'm a monster from the heart of the heartless A product of a circle of sinners that's living godless Hostage to this nonsense, bare arms, no tolerance Napalm, apocalypse on wacks, I demolish it It's Vicious B town, what up? I rock shows on the daily Promoters trynna book me, I'm like "Fuck you, pay me" They were sleeping 'til I hooked up with Slaine Fuck the law, I'ma go hard 'til they can reign me Battle raps, slash Mad Hatter with a battle axe Swinging where your hat is at, smashing then it's hatching out I tuck a burner, taking albums in [?] corner I find a bum on the street and smack his couple quarters Take it to Molly with a Somalian in a Ferrari On his safari or in Narnia, you blow like a harmonica or Monica You couldn't see me with binoculars You are below me, that means I am on top of you I'll turn your chick into a porn star Film that bitch blowin' me and put that shit on Worldstar Drug sniffer, cut liquor, dirty grunge spitter Lyrical gun slinger, I let my buzz zing her I'm catching charges if they guarding for mobbing and robbing nicks fans Three for the last shit you see, before that mismatched mismatch Spinning this til I'm giving her whiplash 'Teb with that kick stand more than you can withstand Fuck it, if they poetry's deep - they always fail It's all tall tales like cold shoulders in Hell I own my own holder, it's not what over your head Before you knowing, it's all in your head it's over your legs For me to flow from the head is what they hope for instead Give me a moment to blast for us, a toast of the flesh Administer the sinister, belittling them little boys Quit spitting, that's just too much talk and too little heart They better have the [?] stepping on my dawgs 'Cause if I apply the iron shit, you sleeping on the floor In spite of what you saw, ain't nothing as violent as the God Got you hiding out, make you fucking riding out our store I'm ill 'cause I slaughter your crew, guilty of bodying you Yeah I know you in the building, I heard the audience boo I emerge with deep words, be herbs those street curbs You sounded gully for a second, it must be the reverb I get money in traffic and I ain't talking sinking bridge I'm breaking ribs of hating kids from Gothenburg to Cambridge Heyo Slaine, I got a table down, I strangle for us Place bigger than the one fifth of a stegosaurus Every time I rhyme, cats wanna delay the chorus Walk through the beam with that green, look like a major tourist Fuck with Esoteric you better arrange a florist 'Cause I'm flying, I'm deadly, they gotta spray the forest I'm the nicest motherfucker out when I'm writing But I'm biased, just a little, ask Tommy Heinsohn You delicate rappers are deemed irrelevant How you wore yourself out, but still you ain't sell a bit I became exactly everything you feared I would be Seen the devil, man, I put the holy spirit in me People looking at me like nobody weirder than me Couldn't hear me though unless they had their ear to the street But, my style's unchanged, still known by one name To all the unsane, throwing dick to any dumb dame My shit is banging, I should spit this in a gun range Fallen angel sluts addicted to my cum stains Smart people say it's dangerous to hang with me But my people's just scandalous and angry You're staring at the enemy, my face is trouble The public frowns on me like I'm an interracial couple I'm a sick fuck renegade in front of you You make me laugh, I never been afraid of one of you Your eyes are crossed, you ain't a boss, you're just full of Henny Try and stop me, you would have to put a bullet in me