"Cold get stupid ill!" -] LL Cool J
{*scratched: "I'm the illest.."*}
"Myke Miers" .. "get ill!"
{*scratched: "I'm the illest.."*}
"Myke.. Miers", "ill!"
[Myk** Miers]
Your first mistake, is that you wanted to go flow for flow
But my lyrical, was too much for you to bargain fo'
My mic checkin is life threatenin
The style I use can't be defused, it only deton-nates
There's no escape once you enter my zone
See my vocal tone, it's Gulf War Syndrome
Many conspire, to overthrow Myk** Miers
But a, k**er for hire, can never retire
Only retaliate with forty-fives and thirty-eights
And escalate, the wack MC's d**h rate
My slugs scoot out, in a shoot out, bring the loot out
Yo move out, we find a new route
Cause to hold it down, these dumb clowns wanna go the round
I'm layin wack MC's down with my fo'-pound
And then obliterate your whole town
You shoulda never crossed this k**er, bet you know now
{*scratched: "I'm the illest.."*}
"Myke Miers" .. "get ill!"
[Myk** Miers]
Yo, can't none of y'all last with me
You see I'm so dope they had to name the mic after me
I blast MC's that's the way that it have to be
My family gots No Limits like Master P
It's blasphemy to talk trash to me
I turn your rap career into a catastrophe
See I'm your majesty, because I reign like Hussein
Blow you out the frame, now you can't hang with the pain
That I inflict, yo I insist that you bust
I guarantee when you finish they'll be moppin you up
Ahh yo I bust dope, see plus note
My style is cut throat to leave you blood soaked
My clique is thick like blunt smoke
See plus we all gun tote, and we best known to bust folks
Your whole image is just a hoax
See y'all went O.G.'s and locs, with six-fo's and gold spokes
I'm the illest
{*scratched: "I'm the illest.."*}
"Myke Miers" .. {*scratched* "ill!"}
{*scratched: "I'm the illest.."*}
"Myke Miers" .. {*scratched* "get ill!"}
[Myk** Miers]
My vocals is "Apocalypse Now"
I served MC's before but you at the top of the pile
You feel my onslaught, I walk the strets with a sawed off
Body parts fall off, you gettin hauled off
I express myself well with a gun
You think k**in is hard work, but to me, yo it's fun
I make all you rappers run, my notebook weighs a ton
I got more ways than one to erase you son
My police record, is platinum, I act dumb
With a magnum with brain fragments scattered in your bathroom
See I'm the bloodiest brother known to man
Cause the mic in my hand, similar to a knife in my hand
The madman who leaves bodies in trash cans
The copycat k**er will be the, last man
You would ever expect, the unusual suspect
And I do most of my work after sunset, come test
{*scratched: "I'm the illest.."*}
Yo I'm the illest
{*scratched: "I'm the illest.."*}
Yo I'm the illest
{*scratched: "I'm the illest.."*} {*fades out*}