[Bridge]
Mary in my mind, fuego on deck
All black rosary, hang from my neck
When the beat drops, ho I get hype
Might go psycho, (woah) this hit 'em like (what)
[Hook]
Kick, ba**, drum, this hit 'em like
Kick, ba**, drum, this hit 'em like
Kick, ba**, drum, this hit 'em like
Kick, ba**, drum, this hit 'em like
[Verse 1]
I got two buildings stuck to the bottom of my Chuck Taylors
They won't reject me down the line a million bucks later
Ain't no stallin' it, skipped the college sh**
b**h I got no scholarship, if I ever trip, then the sky is what I'm fallin' with
With ya girl in my shuttle, eat her out on the hubble
Telescope, couldn't tell the scope of her a** 'til I huddled
Around it with my alter egos, it ain't my a kilo
Of kush will be having me acting all medieval, listen
You're target practice, ya lack this, the Loch Ness on ya block with
A lock pick, and a pen in hand, ain't got no shield to block with
To busy k**in' 'em, you know they feelin' him when the ceilin' is hot
Get embarra**ed wether you're ill or ya not
[Bridge]
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
I wrote my own Bible, they're eighteen year old idol
They waiting for my arrival, I'm just waiting for a rival
This music is a being, you're useless, the appendix
I'm the mind, a cross between Terminator and Hendrix
Better send this, message to the Gods, I'm heading for Olympus
To throw hands with Zeus, and cut it up with Goddesses
Cuz I been grinding way to hard
For you to try to tell me that I ain't up in this b**h, ho
[Bridge]
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
An axe to the back, hold still kicking
It's just a little dirt, I don't get it, why you tripping?
All I'm trynna do is fit ya body in this coffin
Hell isn't that bad, matter fact I go there often
Last time it froze over, when God told me to flow colder
And trust me, it's not gonna thaw as I grow older
So fight back, or I'll come through with light sabers strapped
Then I nap, dreaming of Sofia on her back, damn
Those wet dreams, s** scenes, ex pills, text stills
Fat blunts, rap stunts, s** k**s, s** sales
Fat a**, caps that rip straight through ya organs
Drive with Captain Morgan
Crooked kings, broken dreams, broken homes, microphones
Warfare, why the media couldn't leave Mike alone
All those thoughts form the conflicts in my mind
So I create this reality where all I do is rhyme like
[Bridge]
[Hook]