Everybody know...the boy body hoes...
fuckin with more fire flower...than Mario...
beyond great...cook niggas beyond steak...
hold a candle to me...both of your arms break...
theres no god in this flow...I'm too devilish...
and you stepping in...get left with a bruised skeleton...
cause a nigga so gully with the ox...
leave your face dripping so much...you're bloody at the socks...
my favorite gun isn't a glock...I got shells that spin...
like hands to numbers on a clock...
you fuckin with a mover...I got paper & work...
you do too...but you does it with computers...
before Micheal I been bad...counting the big math...
making niggas lose weight...with the rug-aimed...
like 2 gays...going thru aids...or fountains of slim fast...
get gully...or get back...
especially when the mac is in the right...
cause I'll leave ya fam in tears...like Passion Of The Christ...
I does this better than you do...fuck a serial...
my shit shaved like the head of a poodle...
or maybe the pussy of dyke...niggas talk hard...
but look soft as cookies on the mic...
Mr. Nunaya Damn Business is back at it...
and shot licking's a bad habit...ya damn faggot...
already told you...its nothing to me...
so many bars...it's like words stuck in the beat...
or a dictionary stuck in my teeth...
you could bust in the ocean...and still wouldn't be fuckin with C...
