[Verse 1:] They say the mind is a terrible thing to waste So my every rhyme is designed from a spiritual place Get the time, I'm some kind of a lyrical great I drink wine from the vines of superior grapes Why you think I carry the weight? They got me very irate I make a classic, it's a habit how I bury these stakes You can't compare me to snakes, I never bite, I never crawl On the mic I'm something that you never saw, this is raw Y'all can't be serious, [? ] it's hilarious I leaves you bloody like the first man to have a period Period, I ain't gotta write no more But since the beat kinda nice I'm a write some more Fight your war for what? Little cash, little cheques? So when I die you can put a little flag on my chest? You a fag with a rep, I got shotties for your men If Obama don't get the spot, it's probably not for him Enough black men do good to only get shot That's why I'm good in the hood, I don't need to get the props I only need to get these thoughts off my brain Chopped [? ] let Juju Mob in the game
[Verse 2:] Here comes the storm, get your talking on, sick nature back from the dead Like the motherfuckers been reading the Necronomicon When the sick person is talking, I murder the market I'm a monster, kids trying to see me searching the closets If incompetent knuckleheads are being slumberers I'm sick, I kick in a fucking door in and slap em out of pajamses Y'all fakers believe that I've been racing with cheetahs My face is the thesis to standing tall and my laces Adidas If I'm unlucky to fuck [? ] I'm sick motherfucker, plague wouldn't touch me with rubber gloves Half-steppers stay beneath me, the rap shit'll never leave me I'll bring thunder like Thor swinging his hammer to AC/DC Fuck you if you think this shit is improper While I'm lying rappers be pushing their keys thinking they're hustlers I'll show and prove, never do it for paper [? ] maker or move for Snowgoons and the nature, motherfucker
[Verse 3:] The mob remains, we was just in the shadows King of kings, Kamachi and Cauze, brother of pharaohs Cousins of killers, fathers of felons Don't like no weed around us, we'll abolish your section Got juice? You willl get bashed to a pulp Real talk, yeah since the status was cult Hundred and eighty-seven songs, that ain't half of my vault Hell froze, paved my way out on a path made of salt Me and Mach made of fire, ain't no patching the torch Pass out [? ] passing the pork, I'll splatter your thoughts West Philly where I rep, where my passage was taught Wilding up the block while grandaddy sat on the porch Watching the news with his back to the room I grew up with kids who swam with crack in the womb Now they selling the same shit, pop's style on the same strip Shower you, rhymes powerful as a cage kick Oh what a tangled web, I leave you maimed and dead Without a microphone I make you fucking bang your head My anger's fed when I get some heat from wax [? ] Gattsburg, woulda been a hit man, just learn to rap first Used to be a fat jerk, now I'm a skinny one One man, one gun, I go to war with anyone You fuck with Juju Mob, that's asinine Won't have to rhyme, nigga we'll settle this by blasting nines