Still here
Word up son, I'm still blazing
This feeling inside, it's so amazing
On the mic I feel like a herd of buffalos, I'm just grazing
Never full man, I'm on a strict rapper diet
And you sitting there wondering why Tumi doesn't die-yet
Even if I do homie, you ain't gonna get my spot, you ain't high yet
Man, I got a mad lyrical skill
Among rappers I'm the deadliest, I kill
I'm not sick, I'm ill
On the mic I spill, some of the meanest verses
Increasing what you call sex-appeal,
Matter o’ fact I call it mic-appeal
The mic jus can't get enough of me, it keeps calling:
"Tumi get back, these kids constantly keep spitting
nursery rhymes on me with their stinking breaths
I need you. Signed yours forever, The Mic"
Now ya'll haters don't want beef with me, I'll cook you alive
Add some Knorrox beef stew mix with added Robertson's spices
This was the finale, glad I'm done, finally
Now you can drop your verses while watching the behind of me
