[V1] Through the pages of tall tales and short stories I was systematically given by Dewey my own category As surely as it was written the chapters were satisfactory I'm booking n***as that's claiming they've got a stack for me My raps are purely worded with allegories inserted f** with your hearing leaving one of your senses perverted Make sure you heard it Rarely averted my verbal array with slay the barely a**ertive So get Judy to judge and spare me the verdict No matter how you interpret the letters, regardless of translation You're illiteracy shows like Babylonian aggravation From lack of communication, sound barriers get broken Whether written or spoken, I turn-styles without a token Cause the way I coin a phrase will rapidly anoint the stage Or vocal session, in every direction, let me point the ways By way of my index, I pretend like I'm in text So, I stereotype 6 rappers, and interject 5 spaces to indent Then I backspace to erase the last trace of n***as whose tracks waste My time. You'll be last place to the line Due to the fast pace of my mind And it takes more than a snake or a swine To place me within a backbrace Cause I'm fat, ace, check the weight of my rhyme You diggin the slap ba**? Trying to figure just how this b**h's a** tastes Was headed for third base, the minute the b**h delivered the gas face Like Ants to acid, I burn slower than bu*ter on a tepid gun Yo, cause competition is none [V2] Now, you can bring it if you want it. But, be sure to keep the receipt Cause when I freak to the beat, you're bound to get returned I seek the heat and set to burn your tape, to let you learn your fate in advance But that depends on if you tend to urinate in your pants I place demands on small bladders and weak podiatrists If there's a reason I get pissed, then 5 MCs can die-per-diss And that's a quota. You stated that you know the amount But you can strike it off the record, cause that sh** don't count I end quotes like double apostrophes, put commas in comas
Make you dash to the doc, while checking your semi-colon for melanoma Revoke your diploma, low marks to question me ba*tardize the alphabet, and ask him which parent he sees I use an*logies and context clues on occasion Find my name's in tune with Tonedeff, minus the hyphenation See, my inclination's to slash forward and not return Cause if I come back, I'mma light you up twice like burned urns And pound ya. Cause what you make up is cakey I'll leave you so flaky You'll be trying to hit the escape key just to evade me But you can't quit out to safety So pay me with your pin-number to sway me away today Cause maybe an 80 will dissuade me I've played the nice guy long enough, I'm charging late-fees Can't f** with the rhyme, so you're hiding behind the 9 just like the 8-key I create divisions like space bars when you press me I'm like a hooker with her period - f**ing with me gets messy [V3] Competition is none, and Tone said it with authority Cause competition nowadays is a majority Of undereducated n***as delivering horribly Swearing they're more complex than their own inferiority And right behind them, There's sure to be some who*e at the local sorority Who's wack, yet her shows are packed formidably Now, baby got back, but she's a bore to me Cause she's a front, like New York bottled water that lacks purity My aura be tapped straight from the stream of consciousness It's not often that I'm impressed, so I'm popping your confidence At every given opp I get. All I'll need'll be a needle Some custom instrumentals and just over 30 people I'll surely hurt your ego if you go that route I take the low road, but I don't bow to no man's clout No need to be way-high to express ways to enact this I planned the fastest path and ran McNally off the atlas And this I'll practice, even when I be 95, I'll still be at this Globally off-axis, hip-hop madness Regardless how the demographics are stacked Cause I'm the legend that never got on the map