[Verse 1]
In a world full of evil, cold, harsh and shifty
Musically speaking, you should have come from the sixties
Cause there wouldn't be the temptation to go "WABADABADAH I'M PISSED"
And wreck your pipes cause thrash didn't exist
I bash kids, I'm gonna rip, will rip, have ripped the fabric
Yo space-time, your jeans gonna need a new patch, kid
I ratchet up the difficulty so no MC can touch me
Disappear with vapor trails, no point in trying to rush me
Trust me, test me, I'm quicker than Rebel XD
I'm goddamn fast, and I ain't trying to look s**y
Look, I wasn't kidding with my Pull No Punches
If honesty was a god, I'd be the leader of the cult, kid
Sound coming up outta the ground, what?
Yeah, I'm making a deal with the devil and making HIM sign to the fine print, WHAT!
That's how I do to appear superhuman
I teleport, you're still stuck in your car like Gary Numan
Mysteriously bringing your doom, be still as you fall
When it comes to energy, I'm k**ing them all
I am the savior, of a lyric in danger
Cause rap is a joke and I'm about to piss-take ya!
[Verse 2]
I'm the epitome, of a venomous enemy
Try to cross me, I've already crossed you out the recipe
I never wreckin a beat recklessly
And I never hesitate to smack a punk for knocking my creative energy
You're insecure, and you're constantly pissed!
Your girl's got so much makeup, if you kissed her you'd look like KISS!
I got no time to waste with a bigger diss, I got bigger fish
For example, political gibberish
The minute you mention Bush, you've just dated your rap
And that's three minutes of your legacy you ain't gettin' back
So ha, shut up, get your battle on
I kick you off of the night train to Babylon
Then jam this song out the side of the car
Until the label wants to sue me for piracy, then it's WAR
Cry some more, like never before
I drag your sorry a** out, then get to the core
Rap is a bore, when it's playing in the back of a store
I give a slacker what for, rap with pa**ion galore
I don't pose, I'm a metalhead, head to toes
You cannot f** with Randy Rhoads
[Verse 3]
They call me the right-keeper, you're just a bite-sheeper
It ain't possible to make your life cheaper
If I see any punch-ins, Imma punch 'em out to make it straight
Your regular take you couldn't stop from blowing with a paperweight
Terminator of those with no merits
Claim to control the mic but can't control their own larynxes
Flagrant system error, systematic terror
In the hearts of several companies with an aristocratic air
Oh yes, you know I'm talkin' about you
Go ahead, trip over yourselves to try to get me in bed
But you'll never succeed, I'll even play you at greed
And see who can get the biggest following
I don't even need MCs what can't write good english
Invented the word "psyche", but you can't even spell that right no more
f** fightin' a war, I don't need to, I just direct them to my record and bugger off
Cause every MC within the vicinity hits me with accusations of everything
Other than being a sh**ty MC
So take your IM speak and shove it, you don't love it
You're just a chav and that's about the crux of it, BOW!