The Alchemist

Let’s go back to '97
Produced by The Alchemist
F an introduction
Cause if I state my name, you lames’ll get to duckin
You heard one rhyme and couldn’t forget the substance
Just a dosage on my vaccine will crack trees
Turn the sun cold
Frontwards fold the cap of your knees
Eyes bloodshot you spit
Me lose a battle is about as slim as a Ethiopian’s ribcage
Freaking rap genius
Who thinks otherwise can catch the black penis and
They all shook
Looking over they shoulder twice
Kill a rapper in cold blood like a murderer throwing ice
More than nice with the poetry, I’m courteous
that creates pure nervousness
Rappers ain’t rappers no more they burglars
Biting certain things I threw away
Doctor gave me a prescription of wack emcees
(This is a Libido Speedo exclusive)
And half of y’all booty with a label that commits anal acts
What I’m spittin is written Armageddon to a degree
So uh look out world, I hope you’re ready for me
Sick of these wack cats that rap that sound like I did if I backtrack
That’s wack, it’s time to eliminate all this wack scrap
then call me a
Drop heavier than a fallin of bricks
Crack eggs and yoke you jokers to get all of your mix
My routine’s fit for a king sittin thrones
Niggas scared to bust holes in me like I’m the ozone
Poison radiates to the vinyl to the turntable plate
Needle activates if the record breaks it can take your face
Turn you into DJ Nicholas Cage, I’m John Travolta
We can trade places exchange faces
Who’s laughing now
Who’s unconscious blacking out
Glass jaw, throw bricks in a glove and smack your mouth
You rappers stay 10 steps behind me
My poetical slang could put you out of this game like Jumamji
Shaolin monch of this rap world
Those who egotistic, I put you down unzip my pants and release some liquids
Guess I’m over your head you goin dry
I got this on lock it’s hard to pry
My third eye is a third rail
Shocking to hear what I spit out
I don’t chill I’m a recliner because I do flip out when it’s time for some
action
Beyond every line I’m detachin
Cats run and say «it's the bomb»
What I’m spittin is written Armageddon to a degree
So uh look out world, I hope you’re ready for me
Sick of these wack cats that rap that sound like I did if I backtrack
That’s wack, it’s time to eliminate all this wack scrap