[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]