Yes im getting physical who can blame me when
im hittin more decibles than dolby digital,
my speakers alone killin you, they instrumental,
hav you goin mental, im freein now no paper or pencil,
end ya career, hav you hostin my TV specials,
lines sweet lik nestle, flying on you lik a Kestral,
rippin you up coiled in the back tire of my cycle axil.
As the world turns, I spread like germs
Bless the globe with the pestilence,
the hard-headed never learn.
It's my testament to those burned.