Extended Famm - Murder In The Verse Degree lyrics

(Chorus) Gulity. Murder In The Verse Degree Nationwide, cops on a search for me Martial Law, state of emergency Because I'm Guilty, Murder In the Verse Degree (V1 - SESSION) Session, will be the next cat ya idolize worshipped for thousand of years after my demise so I'd advise you try to hide, cause 4 you'd get divided by lyrically, you could be me, and we still wouldnt see I to I Judge Session this court's presided by, and you tried to lie under oath, hand on my notebook, without a alibi that a guy, you better quit now while you got spine fluid f** rap, I'll grab a blade and set your mind to it I knew it, ya dome has over blown gas in a trunk kissin ya own a** is were they gonna find you in divine human, rhymin for days, finish off foes my mind is a maze, were minotaurs roam I got a senators dome, politikin to get my tape played and get paid, flow off the chains like escaped slaves make way, I'm strapped wit explodin rhymes put the track to ya ear, take cover and blow ya mind (Chorus) (V2 - SESSION) in raps you facin, someone causin lacerations to blast ya face in and make you wear a mask like Jason you hara** the nation wit procrastination make you leave the game as fast as Mason like its an evacuation tax evasion, if you owe me make ya face look like a patch of raisins, my concepts an immaculation use imagination like masterbation a fans fascination turns to infatuation cause I'm past amazin the hash I'm blazin will make me look like half a asian spit leave your habitation wit heavy saturation the fact you wastin my time, runnin what you outta do before I slaughter you, make your offensive lines do an audible you know what? its somewhat honorable cause s**in as hard as you do must be hard to do too gettin served like I ordered you food, I'm the best at rhymes packin my number 2's to withstand the test of time so hold it if you wanna hold it, dog this mic's mine Im not ahead of my time, I'm ahead of my life's time got the tight lines, ill voice and a harder flow, so you outta go thinkin you nice and get robbed for ya heart of gold (Chorus) (V3 - SESSION) On mixtapes I spit straight atcha bruh, and ma**acre amba**adors, get papes, and laugh at ya I'll rip fakes and amatuers in two and battle half a ya get raped, askin round the cypha how my dick taste when I rap witcha I mastered the flow wit a bit rate of that crap of ya's no mistake if I ask for ya, make ya b**h date a bachelor you a disgrace, s**in like Dracula wit a big plate, makin an a** of ya you aint a legend cause you switched plates wit a Acura at this rate, Ima fracture the bones on ya rib plates and snatch ya cadaver right out the back of da mid waist I punch the earth and hit plates like a spatula swing were your hips lay, unless you hit play on my sampler make ya chic wait?, I'm snatchin her, have my dick ate while I'm smackin the b**h face, and its late for mackin her they say my sh**s great, spectacular thinkin its smooth sailin till I have ya own shipmates attackin ya (Chorus)