[Verse 1]
Causing more harm and drama than a bomb in a busy sauna
Sipping an Arnold Palmer in the corner with your mama
See I'm over all like a normal farmer's armor
Flow sharper than arms in the palms of Jeffery Dahmer
I'm lava. Holy f**, like ma**es on a mattress
Spitting tracks that get met with claps and ma**ive gasps it's
Pa**ive? The dashboard smashed and gas is in the gashes
Car crash flow, I'm a blow. Where the matches?
(Where the matches?)
(W-w-where the matches?)
(Where the matches?)
(I'm a blow. Where the matches?)
[Hook]
And they say I'm on fire with it
Yeah, I smoke. But I don't get higher with it
Spit fire 'til it looks like a pyre with it
Flames. Flames. I'm on fire with it
Yeah, ugh, I be burning up
Scorching and torching 'em homie, you should turn it up
I ain't a pro yet, but I ain't a beginner
That's why the rap game's getting left in cinders
[Verse 2]
Scorching and torching up your porch to your front door
Poaching for some music. You only know four chords
I'm forcing these wars to stop with their toy swords
No ignoring. I be boring some holes through floor boards
Yo, give me that recognition
Cause I be burning gas these other wacks got wrecked ignitions
You can check the frames like you wrecked your vision
I be burning bright. Blinding like your retina's missing
Sizzling, searing 'em with that molten lava
Hoping java'll devour their need to be cowards
Wake up! Don't be scared of my music
The only reason to be fearing is if you abuse it
Yes I use it to trailblaze my city
You failed lames ain't witty
You getting shamed with pitty
You repping lames that's silly
I'm telling them I'm gritty
My tracks are so hot they burn themselves to a CD
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Spit entire balls of fire at these phony liars
Ripping wires from their webs now they're just lonely spiders
Only writers that match me are homies. I'd've
Thought y'all had been scorched trying to clone the lighters
Char you to cinders, blast you to ashes
Taking heat from the sun like the back of a cactus
Got her back on the mattress, I'm packing the madness
I'm slamming the game with heavy hits like smacking the fat kids
Leave it in cinders, I bend the beginning sinners
Befriend all the trendy winners and pretend they are my dinner
Munch on 'em, with a sick beat
Crunch on 'em, extra crispy
And they're six feet. No, that's wrong
I had them cremated with my blowtorch tongue
Forth course? Done. Man I promise you
I'll eat any hater I can barbeque
I be carving through a crowd with carbon fuel around
My body you can say I'm Johnny Storming through
So here I come. Man, somebody call the circus
I'm a fire spitter, and that's just perfect
Now my work is burning up the dirt it's
'Bout to set it off. I hope you know it's going to hurt kids
So say your prayers, and learn to take the pain brah
Cause I'm 'bout to burn the whole rap game up
(Burn the whole rap game up)
(B-b-burn the whole rap game up)
(Burn the whole rap game up)
(Cause I'm 'bout to burn the whole rap game up)