its monotone. no biggy just decided to make a track for shits and gigles
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Lyrics
Heat for the game, ignites my brain, my plot I muster, spaceship thrusters, shine like luster, I'm a Microphone Conductor, acronym, M.C. You've been warned about streaming my MP3. There’s no way out of battling me. Gotta get on the mic, like jack the ripper. I take your genitals, with my trigger finger. I’m sick "sick" and don’t you forget. Lay clowns down with unprecedented tactics. I’m looking like an ass and you're coming out the shit. You get passed, flushed down the toilet.
Butt whack tracks, still blast back. A weak producer, when I thought it couldn’t get worse, you spit a sad verse. Skill around here is endangered. Couldn’t keep up in a microphone melee.
Mayday Mayday. Taking critical damage. Intellectual cabbage, musical garbage, mistaken for knowledge. Couldn’t get props if you were nailed to the cross. Quit with the fuckin’ floss. It ain't shit to submit a spit on link "benefit" half the members are noisy hen critics, on my poison pen lyrics. If you can’t do what I do then mother fuck you.
Get back in the game Q quit saying that you're through. Meet me for freestyle on yahoo. Maybe another name change, will put you in the mood. Ha ha. Giving up, is what a bitch would do.
I be the actual, factual, rap super natural, blowing up national, it’s understandable. Not to mention what I’m stressing, leave you second guessing. Dope sell itself so my CD is steady pressing. You can’t see me I flow so freely.
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