[Verse One: Vak**]
I roast n***as till they beg me change the subject
I write, arrange and publish
Brains in the street at point blank range in public
When I spit a round, like a semi-auto with a queasy clip
Meeting earl, leaving your back open like a hospital gown
You better bite more than The Lox to beat me
Who you f**ing with been nice, since Christ was on a box of Wheaties
Let b**hes a** cheeks peeled apart
Got p**y falling from the heavens, don't know whether to f** or build an Ark
Dragging his dicks, the antagonist [?] dragon fisted with a .44 mag and a biscuit
With no religious, ethnic or racial exception
Squeezing off on n***as, with a nut busting facial expression
You're a monopoly house in a volcano vicinity
I ain't got sh** to lose, except unlike you, my an*l virginity
Let Juice catch bodies and I'm gonna catch the b**h
My trigger finger got a bad case of crabs now who wanna scratch the itch?