Verse 1 Im about to kill the instrumental better check his pulse When I show up with my pencil and the murder case closed When Im settin down my chopper and the syllables flow I like to play with the rhythm and I let it all go But its cliche well these days with beats played like heat rays I eat grapes like kings wait for pete sake I beast rage On 3 page of 3 days a week and I see great Believe me its D day Ill replay the relay is decayed The reverb has got words I be brave I concave Melody pop and kickflip to a catapult To a manual, patterns of an animal Eatin through these MCs like a bloodthirsty cannibal I am flammable, liquid nitrogen I shatter badifolds I glue bladderul, attackin you with dadderall I hack a saw I pack it raw Im feelin like I just injected some Ritalin with a little bit of adderall Hook But on this real shit Im out for a mill tick Its still twisted as fuck and yall gotta deal with it Im ill fitted leaving chills when the pills kick in My wheels spinnin my grill grittin, I been sittin In a tiny shore room a hobby hole, if you have a problem with my place you gotta go I dont need you motherfuckers shoving down the throat, you comin with the Niko shit and never brought it no Verse 2 And Im tired of these wannabes just chokin up the game They need a choke chain back to the yard where they slang Where they gang bang throwin up them gang signs, all these mother fuckers talkin about a gang life Seen it on the same side and it aint right, they actin like they family but they aint tight But when it comes to my division in the kitchen we be runnin up these recipes like motherfuckers wanna listen We give them boom watts and make those windows bend, a session in the studio is music for a friend Right before the casket Ill be slapping beats until the end, reincarnated I will do it all over again I dont like how these people look at me, they shake their head in misbelief I know theyre hatin me, woah Hook But on this real shit Im out for a mill tick Its still twisted as fuck and yall gotta deal with it Im ill fitted leaving chills when the pills kick in My wheels spinnin my grill grittin, I been sittin In a tiny shore room a hobby hole, if you have a problem with my place you gotta go I dont need you motherfuckers shoving down the throat, you comin with the Niko shit and never brought it no Verse 3 And some of you motherfuckers cant even acknowledge the fact that you aint got shit, but a turd polished Go ahead and roast it with some peppers and your olives, but you claim to be a killer and you know youre not honest Abe, your legs, they shake When it comes to confrontation, you break, youre fake Its time for you to wake...up, and smell the black silk Cause some of you are rotten like some motherfuckin bad milk You make me wanna puke, yall be rappin firecrackers Im about to drop a nuke Then I get to jukin, hadukin I move them, with one hell of an upper cut on your trail just like a spook I am crafted, Armageddon at its worst, you want me on your instrumental well Im spittin first Well check it homie you aint gonna get a free verse, Im gettin money gettin paid like I deserve Hook But on this real shit Im out for a mill tick Its still twisted as fuck and yall gotta deal with it Im ill fitted leaving chills when the pills kick in My wheels spinnin my grill grittin, I been sittin In a tiny shore room a hobby hole, if you have a problem with my place you gotta go I dont need you motherfuckers shoving down the throat, you comin with the Niko shit and never brought it no
grittin, niko, shoving, motherfucker, spinnin