[Verse 1: NiMRod]
My teeth grit
Thrown into the pit without a candle lit
Blinded what I'm up against, but surely I can handle it
At first glance I'm not the type of fella you'd imagine
Who could spit a wicked rhyme, but hey
The thicker the line the more nickles and dimes
And never surprise to find a rapper fronting big
But never follows through and spews a bunch of bullsh** at his spitting gigs
Like what's the deal?
I was searching high and low I couldn't find the appeal
This sh** is unreal
The reason that I stepped up to the stage is enigmatic
Where's the automatic? Gotta combat it and say it
Pa** the static
This heavy flow I'm bringing to the show is aromatic
Dwelling through the room, distract you from the doom
Only a couple crumbs left on the silver spoon
If only that could cut it
If you wanna make it big today you gotta rap about the cold blooded
I'm never blunted
Punt it out the field for wielding all these honest thoughts
A kid who's never had to worry about stepping out my house and getting shot
And does that make my music less legitimate? I guess so
Ignore this blessed flow and focus on what I don't got to show
But listen when I tell you, once I grab the mic and take it off the stand I'll make your boombox blow