It's Kimbo in the backyard with scarred knuckles

Everything broken down from your shoulder…he having car trouble

Left a pool of blood from a spark muzzle

'Cause first he had a stroke, and then this ghost did a back stroke in a large puddle

Swashbuckle...We running plays without a squad huddle

Gucci flash treks with the cross bubble

He Mars Shuttle fly shut your eyes, let Allah hug you

We made it look like he died halfway from solving the final Saw puzzle

Shit

The Rottweiler roaming the junkyard 40% slapped him…shit

I ain't even had to punch hard

The power inside of my thumb parts could crack your lumbar

And my index could probably bench press a stunt car

Got way too many gun bar idiots rapping sub-par

With sensitive skin...they need a tight hug and a Dove bar

Breathing My name on wax could leave your lungs scarred

You grew up in a safe hood…that shit ain't even a GTA one-star

Barely leave with a smudge mark

'Cause where I'm from, them **** might squeeze and let the snub spark for them keys like Sun Ra

Yeah, you peaceful like a monk garb

This Van Damme fighting Tong Po with glue and glass at the temple

This ain’t no glove spa

Ever since a youngin’ had to get it off the strip

2x Get it off the strip

Knew that I was special

…I been twisted since a jit

Better give me my respect…'fore I lift it from the (hip)

Can give a fuck if you flow good yo, there's a million rappers

Bill Russell tower over these spitters with a stilted stature

Descriptive lyrics in liquid crystal

I image capture vivid pictures after

Turn my page into a Philips plasma

In two bars I probably have 30 syllables gathered

Part Masta Killa and part Apex kill master

Grizzly at the lake, biting down a vermilion snapper

Take the cap off the pen that I write with and I bet it spill magma

Spirit caster...getting these rookies slain

Shang Tsung...took his soul from his body now me and my opp look the same

Death note scribbling 'bout to put some names

I'm looking like Kira swapping ownership out when he did the book exchange

Sat by the Bodhi tree and Buddha came

Meditate 'til my body boulder heavy

To move me...they had to hook a crane

Yeah, ya ass is where my foot remained cooked to flames

Left a black spot when he passed...just ash and soot remained

There's sugar in your veins

This is booger sugar cane...up the nose

Not from Buffalo but I'm butchering the game

Y'all mediocre **** ain't fucking with me...I put it plain

They just praying I Die Hard…got em’ looking for Mc Clane