Why not, lyrically murder these noobs w/ a side shot
‘bout to turn them cold, call ‘em Noob Saibot
It’s quite, not quiet, but a strike knot, see
Aint talking ‘bout Inglorious basterds victims
Rather ask for a placement w/ a corny basilisk bashing quake like Richter
Than battling me, ‘cause I’ll break like 26 bones and 33 joints on a pedal
Lyrically I’m beyond a gold medal
Fuck you up like you was Meadow on a classic piano
I’m fierce and deadly like the R of the Soprano’s
I’m a physical manifestation of a lyrical biblical miracle saturation
I’m flyer than ya’ll, call me a faster Nathan
Stop talking ‘bout beating me like masturbation
They dying to beef, I tell ‘em meet w/ the butcher on a cemetery, yo
Leave you w/ double vision like that split screen in Kutcher’s seventy show
This is how a lyrical assassin rolls
Armed w/ sinful, tactical, animal like tact that strikes like Cole McGrath
Leave enemies in a Kevin Ollie state
‘cause I sign my victims w/ thunder, no wonder I still amaze
I’m a beast, hungry for days ‘cause
Ya‘ll know I trill people like Bun B’s LP does
Feedback appreciated.