Busting pigs on their head.

A freestyle fan went from cutting grams to busting pigs on head like hockey fight, girls wanna fine dine with me like they vagina tight, I do not give flying fuck who bite, I chew and spit, pop brew and get on the New York city foul shit, Peace to god Rakim for blessing us inner city kids with style, waiting for money to pile up like gold in Fort Knox, I leave you all with holes like old socks, from corners to the docks I get props, no love for cops.

Silly gimmicks.

what up to all the heads from New York, let's put the poetry into motion like the rough ocean, I am flossing with my new clothes, flows for foes to make them frozen, who da chosen, sipping Heineken  zoning to dope beats that represents the vide of the street, thugs are packing heat, my league do not like outsiders or critics, going hard without limits, hip hop is filled with silly gimmicks, strapped with gats and fitted hats, but do not hate my swagger,

Ripe Mango

lames wanna game dames they ain't sane so ya girl I am playing, you know what I am saying till my hair grays I will chase women and dough, kill foes on tracks, kicking facts to chaps who never heard of rap, beats are crap, can run a lap to sling but thinking that be bringing in more loot than Carlos Slim, scriptures I type in a hype, about a girl who is sweeter than a ripe mango, it takes two to tango.

You fucking Aids patients.

Yo niggas gonna get pumped up in your monkey faces watch brains splatter, let you all bitch asses starve while I puke over your girls pussy, for that matter, I do not give fuck where you from,  so do not come to Queens where Asiatic blacks rule, we gonna slice ya faces and send your monkeys to the zoo, captivating Asiatic blacks control ya thoughts like robots, fucking Aids patients.

Moving grams.

vibe is right like blunts are lit and bubbly is popping, what I am dropping Asiatic mathematics on the beats got the fakers heated like the weather in Sub Sahara, The pharaohs are back an elite fleet from the east coast to brag and boast and RIP the violence and guns, thuun they never ever been in a fight to get the guns popping, they ain't holding they part time community college material, never lived on food stamps and moved grams, they not kosher like swine ham, get it straight fam,

I shine

Kicking the slick poetry, tricking the system with the punches like Sonny Liston, street wisdom from the Asiatic black kid, get rid of the negative doom scenario, brag about what you carry yo!, Let's fight my bare hands to burry you, the blood sport is on, the concrete jungle, going to court for a sport, all about the notes, and I kick quotes, I sport fly gear this universe is mine, grind fine, New York is mine I shine.

Italian cars.

These rappers are bragging about blowing, the only time they blow is the candles on their birthday, Ya heard the way I sway, do not play, punk asses are gay, Me being a homo phobic is the reason because these faggots on my dick like a pilot in a cockpit, I drop rough, do not stop kid, fuck the Japanese shitty whips that I use to cop kid, Now I want Italian cars and sell my art, getting money from the start, I am putting heart in this,

Dough and props

rappers think they are fly but camera shy, when the Cannon is aimed, out for everlasting fame and the game is to get dough, play cool and wreck the loops and tunes, like red roses do not bloom towards moon, I can not give up this art that I represent with the heart, God is my witness, kicking knowledge on how to survive in the concrete jungle, the lead to be followed, spitting like tips that is hollow, I drop for dough and props, set it and forget it.

Hard to grasp.

Kick slick poetry, you must not noticed me yet, I break no sweat, get heated when suckers fake, they better break north, my quotes comes and hits like a comet, my garment fly, I slide and never die, shots fly, rough raps for the heads to dig, fluid like the Liks, the east coast rapper K.a.ph.i.r.e in an effect, get set and you might hold your breath like Astma, my vision clear like a 3d plasma, rappers are keeping up with a reality hard to grasp,

symphonic wall halla.

walk a path, jokers never last, because they are trash from the start and no heart, playing and thinking they might get faster than blinking, if you do not dig me, just say that you can not be linking with an Asiatic black kid, who loves hip hop to death, so I do not play, serious and come through with apes, bananas to lock and load, and clips to spit, but I do not pack a biscuit, if you wanna buy a beat holla, the ultimate symphonic wall halla.

Smooth grooves and loops.

I do not act on the beats like a fruitcake, my troop rake cake for God's sake, low from the Jakes, I never move fake, Wake up the heads, no need to sweat the styles, the dope raps to pile, watch me child, I do this, I got a stock of raps like blue chips, who this to oppose me, play me closely, mostly I roll with a golden roll to shine on peeps, playing for keeps, as I speak the people think deep to it, the smooth grooves and loops to wreck.