Smooth as the harmonica in the intro of piano man
Hard pressed to press you bitches like a mammogram
ONE for the victims when I pull up and let the ammo blam
TWO for me finishing the job, pulling up beside the ambulance
Hell yeah the kid’s cocky, this swagger shit my steez
You biters always droppin someone else’s shit like disc jockeys
I don’t have to tap into the Aesop Rock plain of my rhyming ability
Genetically predisposed to be better then whoever say they killin me
Illustrate the illest traits, making a buzz like distilleries
You make a Buzz like Lightyear, all it takes a couple faggots to kill your dreams
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