Spittin sessions as lethal as a Smith & Wesson
When I'm coming in you know it's sumthin ill
This can only mean that your in trouble kid
I cannot trust a snitch so you can suck my dick
And if your on some funny shit the gun will spit
Yeah I'm bustin clips, puffin spliffs, rubbin tits
I run this shit in bloody kicks, mug your click
But on the low tho, you have no clue who Dusty is
This a blind date, you don't know who you fuckin with
Shit is so sick - my lyrical skills really is ill
when I'm spittin that real shit you could feel
This is the deal, pistols is filled, a mission to kill
Can't count how many lifes I viciously spilled
The motherfucking mircale brings serious things
when the pen hit the pad and I scribble my scripts
I don't wanna crush dreams or be rude my man
But listen to me, here's a couple of crucial facts:
Don't quit your dayjob, you shouldn't choose to rap
Dude you wack, you must be Jill cause you ain't jack
Step up against me and you'll loose the match
Your the one I'm shootin at - you do the math
There go your family, all of their suits is black and
your body got glued with caps when the lugers clapped
I lost my furious wrath after I blew the gats
Truth is that can't nobody bring your future back
Either you in a casket with worms and maggots
Or your body got cremated and burnt to ashes
God didn't listen when you searched for answer
Cause my words like cancer I murder rappers..
It's a verbal massacre and you got merked you bastards!