[Verse 1]
You n***as corny, the b**h I eat stays horny
While you n***as can only eat a single sushi california
Most of you n***as is disposable, it's impossible
For me to be Torné without you thinking "Imma f** with you"
Imma f** with you now cuz I'm capacitated
Little packers, you flow's whacker than a movie translated
Your bodies'll be located in the cemetery
Guess why? my rhymes k**ed you, torné's legendary
Flow's original, I ain't trying to be 2Pac
I ain't trying to be Biggie, I'm just trying to rap
Trying to deliver to you n***as a message
Trap is the trap of the Hip Hop, rap? You should check it
Microphone checker, you better write down this lesson
Otherwise my smith and wesson will bust away your essence
What is this? Some ladies say that i ain't gentle
If ladies say that again I'll put a bullet in their temple
[Hook]
I'm a crook son, so what you gon' do?
Don't make me unload the whole clip on you x4
[Verse 2]
I've come to a point where rapping is a habit
I've became an addict to the beats of Inna Attic
Alcoholic, better yet, micoholic
I grab the holy mic and it makes me hyperbolic
None of you motherf**ers can be this superhotter
I spit mad data to turn your body into antimatter
My wallet's fatter than fat joe at his worst
That n***a was good till the moment i was born
And I've become, the best MC in the scene
That n***a Torné? an MC you've never ever seen
I'm the king of the medal, looking for the cheddar
Blessing microphones with my vocals and getting fed up
Keep your head up, my flow blow up like a volcano
Spitting out all the lava, never run out of flavor
And I'm labelled as a n***a giving long looks
To any motherf**er and the rapper in the booth
[Hook]