Tech’s gonna give you a story
About how we hit al the rights notes and showed up for glory/
Employ more lines than any a hundred bars
Measured in a five minute time lapses/
Spit wit all letters capped ripped off the wrapper
Put it in the CD player, cassette deck or iPod/
Now you know why I rap so fucking hard
Without cashing my check card I borrowed from yours/
Whore it out or pour it golden showers get cowards nervous
My flow flourished under determents that’s disturbing/
Now am I making potential competition nervous?
But shaking up the formula and not rapping in riddles/
Do I need to dabble and act all snarling like gnarls?
I ball wit skills that make the armature’s look soft/
Cross you over like Teshaun Prince I ink the pad
Wit thoughts so sad the mic was glad to pass on it/
After I spit vomit killed off Hailey’s comet
I wrapped up my laps around the sun to Saturn/
Now that’s battling for your life wit more strife
Than anything considered trifling now we’re scoping and riffling/
Do I have to Eiffel tower these bitches and take pictures wit e’m
Now that’s giving them a load of cum-de-lade how do you want it?
Soft or proper wit more lyrics than any street opera/