This juice and eighty proof aids the wounds of my fallen dudes,
Fuck a booth, I follow suit and let my pen bleed the truth,
Connect the mic like neck-and-noose, Im steady with the heavy-deuce,
Leave your crew with deadened-looks and a couple lesser troops,
Im a raging beast with the speech on this rap shit,
foes I leave deceased when I creep with the mac clipped,
A fit witted wizard with a quicker trigger finger,
The Gunslinger lingers where your children eat their dinner,
So hide from the facts, and I might kick back,
Ya fitted cap will attract and react my auto black,
Laugh when you choke and gasp as your lungs collapse,
Your breathes elapsed when Im on my victory lap.