If you ahead of something It's the Welfare line.
My Rhymes bend you over backwards,
Talking about breaking your spine.
You took my spit 'miss your aim', that ain't no plus sign.
Now I'm guaranteed to hit you up with this tech nine.
I'm no caucasian, more like Latin fool.
You ain't even on my level, you need a stepping stool.
Don't mess with the slayer, ask em' if that's the Golden rule.
If you want more, than take a seat.
Call me a dragon 'cause I'm spittin straight heat.
You don't match up to my status, call it incomplete.
You done messed with me now, talking about a great defeat.
Listen to your mind bichkit it's time to retreat. |