Verse: See when I grab the pen, the thoughts sprawl forth And once in a while, I drop a wild draw four Then haters change their colors and join the in crowd That's the game brothers play when they try to bring my "n" out But you know the "Uno" ain't privy to get ignorant Belligerent; twisting fists with a ninja with a difference in Opinion or way of living, I'll just spit him my truth And if he don't listen, oh well; it's still put in the booth I'll let others take heed and proceed with caution And see there's no need for a fear of Martians The Jupiteran is present to show you something alien But even xenophobics say my flow's sick; so thank you, h*mosapien I'm glad you can relate me to greatness my statements seem basic But with Lasik the placement of an "A" kick can make a faker flagrant Now pay rent! You owe me, son, like I am your parent I demand it! Excuse me, like I'm going a tan gent's shoes No Half Stepping like Kane's my big dad Undertaker taught me to choke slam them into the big mat With that, when I get to a town, stomp beats with my word pictures On the canvas. Now, they can't spit back. Get that? Or is that too complex like Jinx and Alex Bask in my Thugnificence, til you say he reeks of talent Meek can challenge that this bar ain't written by the 6 God But will thank him later soon as his Hotline Bling Back to Back 'bout Mill shanking air So you missed the cut while I'm a cut above You want to turn up like Fisticuffs, I want to Busta Buss Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Can See And haters shut your trap and follow me on Abe's Oddysee Cause your words don't move me like I'm in my Coretta zone Don't make sense to me, and I even got Rosetta Stone Something I can't invest in, so go and write some better songs 'Til then, I have no interest and radio's left alone So give me the aux cord: I'll put on K. Dot or Stik Figa to rock your speaker to change dot Organically morphing your taste to something great From the musical aspect or simply how much you relate Put you on to who raised me, shaped me, and placed me on my ten toes Who put in work to make me feel I'm Bruh Man from the Fifth Floor Cause the mainstream cats you listen to kick flows Could never match my Michael Jai, and this is Just An Intro