Verse One
I gave birth to half these styles, you should pay me rhyme support,
Like Billy Jean suing Michael Jackson for child support,
Rhyme is thought, what is it? Lethal, Damn you
Cos I XL like the tag on my shirt,
I
Feed your girl aphrodisiacs and hide your viagra,
If pain was diabetes, rhyme would be my insulin,
I
They bring the rhyme; I
A single line can turn that fatty matter into muscle,
You stagnate, while my rhymes circulate like rumours,
Your living proof that god has a sense of humour,
I
I
And proclaim what I got, boy, so give me headroom,
These clubs are full of more toys than spoilt kids bedrooms,
When I
Cos I got so much heart that there
Left for lungs, yes the bests yet
To come, my rhymes like a hand around your neck,
Constricting your breathing like snakebites and beestings,
I
I searched the world for opposition but I fear the
Only competition I found was in a mirror.
Verse Two
When Pressure steps to the batters plate you salivate, known to captivate,
I have to break new barriers like when a chaste nun masturbates,
If one more critic asks me what I do, I
And tell them I
Loudmouths make me wanna flip,
MCs only dream they got a grip, and wake up with their hand on their dick,
Honest, if they ride the nuts I tell the get off me,
Cos I
I
I break rappers you give hairline fractures,
These actors keep it real? You
You spit one-liners while I spit the finest chapters,
Perhaps it
Like the Bulls should have done son, cos no-one wants to be like,
That anymore, cos nowadays you
Of coke, guns and gold when they
Factually flawed, yet entertaining,
I guess it how far we
Make them swallow their tongues like epileptics,
Then I
So blow me, you still couldn
I
There
d**h, taxes and Hilltop Hood working the mic.