(First Verse - Fick) (Second Verse - Cory) Medieval Cory Steele, represent your family seal In ya field with a spear but I'm not weildin' a shield So yield when you feel me comin' for your guild So sk**ed with a drill when I pummel & k** Next up, guess what, now look at buddy dressed up All that armor guess I gotta I fill it up with ketchup Fess up, I'm the King you are just a bishop Here to k** my energy, you're not supposed to get up You are just a set up in this game of chess Pro-tection's what ya gettin', no objection to the vest Cuz I'm wreckin' with the best, when I'm peckin' at ya chest With my weapon, get to steppin', my perfection is complex The collection is upsetting, with no sweating I am netting All the bodies I'm beheading with the dread that I be spreading To the dead this is a wedding to the reaper now you're begging For your ending you're ascending but I'll keep your d**h at pending (mothaf**a)