bullets

for once i'm not subtle! i’ll clock your ass faster than iron chef master kitchen skills to come chop you, bitchin still? i knock your ass, flatter than a slap with a shovel, dishevelled, so to spit at my level you betta blast mad like the shuttle, cuz i rock the brass knuckle with the rat on the bezel, my beretta blasts glad, even wetta than, overcast skies and bad weather [man!] keep you grounded, your whole verse surrounded, with bursts of explicit split second wit so wicked i reckon it leave you neatly astounded, completely dumbfounded, bird dead on a wire, son i was bred on gunfire, never tire rap sire I’m crowned with, you floundered, so bounce it or bow the fuck down you clown kid, i bury you underground, terrified hellward bound, with bullets in stereo sound...

WHAT.

mic's, i rock it. so chill.