KiddDaLegend - Tried lyrics

(00:11) I'll be that only brotha runnin' for office/ After I gun down my opponents/ They lookin' for my weakness/ But can't find exposed components/ Tell the runner-ups I send my condolences/ Shove dirt in the face of defeat when I'm focused/ There isn't a rapper today to me that sounds potent/ So none of you mothaf**as are important/ I'm omnipotent and omniscient of all my foes/ And I do dirt with the king of the underworld/ Mush them faces into defeat of mine/ Because these feet of mine are trampling every line/ Stand in line, get in line, get positioned to be on-time/ That's Westside/ Murder and rhythm play a role cuz I'm the playwright/ Finish him like a d**h move, hand-to-hand, no play fight/ Stay right but steer left/ Be down but stay up/ Get the criss but don't come cross, the diagonal step/ Gold runs in my blood from the pharaohs, word to King Tut/ Tried By 12, and died by one, punch to the gut/ Biblical intercourse, like Holy f**/ Feelin' green for that money, no Milwaukee Bucks/ It's bad that you s** like oral s**/ It's even worse that you copped a feel for some pecs/ So what's next, you wanna be the best?/ I tell you it's a different mark for the same quest/ Unbearable, lyrical, cynical, admirable, pinnacle, pentagon/ Dinner's on, physically in trembles/ AVON shellin' out more than pimples/ Or do I mean Clearisil?/ Scraped from the top, watch me clear the ceil-ing/ Skin peel-ing, that sh** needs some action/ I'm all for Play60, gonna need to be more pro-active/ See what happened? The Michelin Man won't be so happy/ Fingers touched on the surface, white gold crust from Pappy/ Mason, I'm back and staging a criminal affirmation/ Who's back is against the wall of 'em all while I'm steady racin'?/ Fettucini, linguini, pasta, lasagna, spaghetti; extra cheesy/ Pretty greasy, feelin' easy but too queasy/ Nicki without the Scottie, then they can't beam me/ Silk pockets, pen is a rocket, shootin' down DOW stocks and/ Runnin' amuck in the cut, with a beautiful tux/ Plaid tie too, I might move to the Bay soon/ I stay cool like a horror game playthrough/ Shots outta the dark, guess who wants to play by two?/ I'm a multi-player, I play a multitude through cake routes/ What you call an easy bop, might be something you can't escape from/ They can't understand or comprehend the Kidd/ They wanna chase a brotha down and apprehend the Kidd/ I'm sick, still/ Meaning I'm coughing up your guts and blood I had as a meal/ PAX ceremony every year/ Arcade pennies for the expo, play me dead & square/ I know what you fear, the possibility of you runnin' out of style/ Tagalong with MGK, he ain't the only boy that's wild/ Now lace up, get ya cake up, tell your mind to wake-up/ Prosthetic pussies, y'all ain't nothin' but fake f**s/ Say what?/ Get hit from a barrel as long as my last name/ Abdul-Ha--(BLAO!)/ Disintegrate your whole frame/ Oh mane, I don't need Gucci as a mention/ Let me get that juice man, without the OJ in it/ Sun as bright as a Jaguar, it darkens the godly pigment/ Synonyms filled with metaphors, but it's only a figment/ Of imagination; burnin' rubber like drag-racing/ You can Bow Wow all you want, I don't give a Shad baby/ The boy mad crazy/ I feel like Radric Davis/ I'm always in trouble for kickin' em while I'm on the move lately/ Or talkin' like I'm sort of outta my mind, but quite shady/ Lyrically, you ain't touchin' me n***a, so stand still like gravy/ The minute you move, it's over for you then you start fading/ Bars Over the Populace/ Y'all want Popular Demand and all that/ I'm lookin' for Bars On-Demand like it's Comcast/ I drink from your girl's a** every minute, my own flask/ You a chump that likes dirty bu*t, ya punk a**/ You fail at gettin' booty at all, ya flunk a**/ You see I drum pa** fast in the ocean/ Like a rowboat with chicken bones for paddles on it/