[Grim]
Bring it on, I'm looking for someone to beat up on
An evil spawn from a k**er back from Vietnam
Shut the f** up for a minute and let me record
I sh** all over rap cats like European p**n
You be at war, start fleeing off
From my fist to your face come together like the Beetles song
Cats are CB4
I'm a one percent on a level, y'all ain't even close to being on
My team'll swarm on all you to get paid
Take you out quick like pawns in a chess game
Hawk in your neck vein
Leave you to drain and hack you up in the dawn of the next day
I hope mothaf**ers came prepared
Really hoping you don't make me have to raise my hands
And I'm willing to face the chair
Cuz I'm comfortable in cages like St. Pierre
[Hook - Grim]
It's a fight to the d**h
Bring it right to your set swinging hard with the right and the left
Mothaf**er front get a knife in the chest
Cuz mothaf**er it's a fight to the d**h
[2x]
[Jay-Sin]
Since I spit on Dine In Hell I lock sh** down just like a prison cell
But like an old school Nas track this sh** ain't hard to tell
In a laboratory stirring sh** up like I'm Gargamel
Embarking on a voyage, bon voyage I hope you wish me well
But on another note I never let um crush my hope
I'd rather place the musket scope directly on they f**ing throat
And you can quote that this the realest sh** I ever wrote
I push the envelope and now they hanging on my every note
Who said Sin and Team Beef wasn't fam no more
That's like telling little kids there's no such thing as Santa Clause
I demand a war and treat it strictly for the feeble
d**h before dishonor, I die for the love of the life my people
We are not created equal, you a punk with no heart
And that sh** could never work like tryna light a match with no spark
So disappear before I end more than your career
I'll put a hook inside your head and pull your brain out through your ear
(Hook)
[Grim]
f**ing madman, someone you should probably sweat
Leave the side of your face looking like Harvey Dent
Run right in your place and leave your noggin wet
Big knife on the waist, I'm leaving all you dead
My style's foul like a f**ing dead body scent
My sh** is real loud, leave you with a hollow head
The mothaf**ing future's grim, that's what my father said
All I need is liquor and some weed and I'm content
I'll stomp your mothaf**ing guts until you vomit red
Anybody stepping to me's lacking common sense
Ready for war like 300 of Sparta's best
Throwing spears, swinging swords at you so guard your necks
Mothaf**ers better have a firearm and vest
Or I promise I'll leave nothing left for God to bless
My squad always marches with the hearts of vets
I've had it with you mothaf**ers dawg who want it next
Yeah. Mothaf**ers. Black Out Productions. 2009 sh** mothaf**ers. Nightwalker on the beat. Freedom of speech, Team Beef sh**. p**y