the architect of this rap game, I smash-lames,
act like you know.. your boy Corleone known to thrash-frames//
sick with the flow.. theirs no one as dope,
while y'all raps are off point, like bad aim//
I'm the general of this here.. to be honestly clear,
I'll hire a slug, fire a gat, and retire-careers//
whose admirers other than my own, could bare-witness,
and testify to the rare-sickness, I share-scriptures//
Corleone is a God, above all.. on His throne in a pod,
space dweller.. I'll travel to saturn, pass mars and speed over a star//
I'm lyrically equipped to write bars and kick shit,
so far, it'll redefine every law of science and physics//
who could rhyme as sickening? cor the sickest,
sicker then three fagots tongue kissin', wearin' snickers//
beyond vicious.. I'm hard hitten,
your chick? she can get it..
I'll slam dunk in that pussy with my balls in it..
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