Wreck be gettin' ill for real, that ritalin pill
puttin the focus back in the madness we livin' in still
I feel its my responsibility when killin' these mics
To be right and precise as military strikes
without vanilla my soliloquy profess my ability
we god-body like 5 percenters and Lil B
these lil niggas is killin me with they trilogies, we real MCs
its really nothin' to kill 'em with ease
a piece of paper floatin' out the window sill in the breeze
I'm like a message in a bottle trynna get over seas
I get appeased by groupies when they get on they knees
so I could, give a fuck bout trynna get on TV
I'm on CDs, mp3s, rockin Scope Apparel T's
yall spit crack, me I spit them coca-barrel keys
frosty-freeze I be the b-boy with busted knees
bustin raps for traps but not enough to cuff the trees
What the fuck is up with thes wannabes gettin cheese
you wanna respond? you should probably let it be...