The lines follow an odd pattern, if you can catch the flow, your good, if you can't, i'm sorry

Yo, I run track like its Combat, hit you 20 sum times, bomb like I pop gats/
Nah its for fun, black, candy coated Sunshine, heat over twin packs/
Twin Towers, bombed sour, may they rest in peace, leap over Jesse James, matter fact Gwen O'Keith/
Teeth buttering like Toast jam, and you out of yeast, better break a leg, you ain't breakin bread, without the meat/
Shit, I just bumped Drake, Montana, Max, maxed out my school zone like I'm dealin rats/
I can't stop the O-zone from attacking back, pop out the orbit, sun shining through your chest/
Burnin up, burn slow this time, let the joint go, pop the weasel over straps, killing men over lats/
I ain't a cop, thug, gangsta, or a dealer, but I got a fresh pack of Sneeze gas that'll make you 'Thriller'/
Moonwalk around town like I'm Mike Jack, little man pussied out, now he gone fight back/
Man, i'm on another planet, call me Janet Jackson cause I popped nipples outta cannons, matter fact call me Nick cause my Cannon be my dick/
I'll ride slow this time, get focused on my rhymes, textbook schedules tell me I got Math next, maybe its the key to my next check/