Lyrical miracle spirtual individual criminal sublimital In your swimming pool
You about to see beasts destroy It’ll never be restored When I unleash these beastly hordes on your CD stores Wanna stop it? You gon’ need a (?), at least three swords A license to ill from the Beasty Boys, three quoji boards A sqeegi and please be warned, do ask what the sqeegi’s for Or the holy water, acid raps thatll eat these floors Eat a whole in a rhyme book, do you see these horns? And as for me you ask when Im gone “will he be mourned?” Is puke luke warm? Should Casey Anthony do porn? Can that chick fit a new born dead baby inside I frickin shoebox with a shoehorn And smother it in chlorofoam so she can go get her groove on? Can she duct tape and velcro a fetus? Joell, Yela, tell Joe I need his empty box from his old shell toed adidas So I can put these babies in the fetal position, to give elbows to the penis Yeah big deal, I took some little kids big wheel and spit in his firggin big kids meal Quit tryna bite me and pinch me, sit still Did you just put your six inch heel through my benz windsheild?! Is it dust we bout to kick up? Can YELAWOLF fit a fifth of rum in a big cup between in stickshift in his friggin pickup and drink like a hick redneck hill billy will til he gets hiccups!? Flippin the script up like Mike Vick gettin his junk bit by a pit, yup, Ima sick pup Id be a horrible magician, cause Ill fuck a trick up Fix your lips up to say something fly, or zip up A B, lets C, you said you were gonna do X Y Z Till you fuck around and get dropped like an E When you add an I-N-G Do put a K infront of that though, when I MC Im not the king of the microphone booth, its more like a phonebooth Superman in this bitch, Kryptonite won’t do It gives me more power, I beat the (?) poison Eat rat poison and take meteor showers Fresh outta the mental hospital