Desert storm cloak –5 Star Generals is rap’s hope
Lyrically slaughter you and tell you just choked
We do that mo’ often than James saying he’s dope
You all on some 1888 shit; jack, rip and write
I advise you to bury the mic like the Jackson Five
I got mo’ punches than Anon got rhymes
Why? ‘cause General Solace be like Richard Steele
Got always a round over for a punch; yeah we that real
No hook needed, still them fish are fin like error
Spyder drops them luxurious bars –we the cause of terror
You drop one bar, pussy? Like the octamom we drop eight
That’s mo’ than enough for prey like you to get ate
Think you can ride along? Naahh, that’s a mistake
Just pull hard, brake and let’s part ways like them Drake mixtapes
They say we the future, aren’t we?
So we’ll take rap back like that tape of Wale
A lyrical terrorist, screaming ‘I kill you’ without sounding funny
Be prepared when The Generals sweet talk ya bitch sonny
'cause we stick to our words when we say ‘honey’ –what for?
Well we in the ball galaxy like Beckham; so all we do is score....