Verse 1: Mr. Groove
Lord be my witness, I'm all about my business
And I will augment your a** with a quickness
I ain't got time for your b**h-ness, I pitch this
Rhyme from the trenches and that's it (boom)
This is real rap, real spit no counterfeit
I will never dumb it down, I will always be equipped to wear the crown
Every syllable is like a four pound shell thus
Every verse is fully loaded like an arsenal
When I rip it's like arsenic is spewing from my lungs
I'm the god of the game so they revere me in tongues
Walk-by and spray automatic monologues
Every bar is trained in black ops just to murder ya'll
It's along fall from the top and haters try and shake the tree
But if I topple off I'll just spread my wings
I'm the ordained king of all kings
And I'm about to bring swift d**h to swag in skinny jeans (rah)
Hook: Lady Amazon
Fire we got that heat we spit that
Fire ignited by our speech we lit that
Fire burn up these beats emit that
Fire cremate all the deceased
These barz r us
Verse 2: Mr. Groove
n***as hate that the lone star got the best bars written
sh**tin' on they heads like a pigeon
Pitchin' heat high and inside they be forced to back up off the plate
My words of war they penetrate and make your body menstruate
I make the drama escalate you better get it straight
You better not provoke the ire or the smoke will turn to fire
I'm the sire where the verbs are concerned
I can make em euphoric or they can take a devilish turn
The highest level I've earned Underground King f** the mainstream
Hangman's the machine they are evading
And my man's they do the same thing, spittin' gang green
I'm in the red square clap the crowd like it was Beijing
Meaning you are facing execution for real
No last words or meal all you get are these bars of steel
Mark your calendar another challenger ripped
So bow your head and pray and make the sound of the crucifix
Hook: Lady Amazon
Fire we got that heat we spit that
Fire ignited by our speech we lit that
Fire burn up these beats emit that
Fire cremate all the deceased
These barz r us
Verse 3: Ill Silla
Coming with the best flow first we let the best go
Then we eat the beat up like its pasta no pesto
I gotsta go fresh ho my roster so blessed tho
Illiterate rappers say that we spit that blessed flow
We getting blessed tho droppin' like it's fresh tho
This is how the best roll you impressed say yes ho
Got the best dro in these blunts that's that Denver City Mile High
All the while I wild out on your style guy
While your style's out I spit the truth don't leave my tile out
k**ing all these rappers till these bodies start to pile high
Pilling the foothills from foothills to mountain summit
Thats why i feel so above your head it wouldn't help to dumb it
Unh b**h I run it unh
Can't stop and stand with me
k**ing all these fakers man we take that to extremities
Turn celebrities to stardust cuhz most stars don't bar us
Spittin out whats real and nothing less these bars they really r us