[Intro: Aasim w/ chants in the back]

South Side

Jamaica, Queens area, ‘bout to break the sound barrier

What you want, son?

I seen the protector give it to you just like this

Fly Shit

[Hook: Aasim]

Keep lacing ‘em with fly shit, my shit

Me and my clique, the niggas I was born with—probably die with

Get high with, write three-dozen live rhymes with

London Iced Tea sipping, Hooptie-driving kids I ride with

[Verse 1: Aasim]

My rap tech's better than black sex, each track my rap bless

Tap sets like data caps, the backs from black Tec's

Attacks complex, facts whack the brain

And so you collapse and lack breath

I cook on this grill, ill soul who like a black chef

Scholastic philosopher, maneuver well on this rap track militant opera

D’X de la ghetto, el lyrical perfecto

Got rappers stranded like inmates with no el collecto

Flash Gordon, verses merciless, murderous dispersin’ this

Thirst on this fly nigga with turbulence

Word in this microphone massacre, menace composition manufacturer

Black rhythm rapturer, bloody throat like Dracula

[Hook: Aasim] (x2)

Keep lacing ‘em with fly shit, my shit

Me and my clique, the niggas I was born with—probably die with

Get high with, write three-dozen live rhymes with

London Iced Tea sipping, Hooptie-driving kids I ride with

[Verse 2: Aasim]

Our whole fortress, I seen the God of Reason paint portraits

Lyrical forces, four horses horseman offense

Non-rock star, Black Chucks, my crew rock far

Praise all while some screaming, “Allahu Akbar”

My uncle locked in, I try and shine for him consecutive

Years keep stocking while the blue murderers clock in

Mind state’s like “Wait”

I’m chopping combatants to small size

Voice sharp, cutting eardrums, open all eyes

Sleeping on the individual straight from South Side

Jamaica, Queens side, emcee high off my word lye

Verbs linked to heart attacks, raising hell over tracks

Double-S soldier, look over your shoulder, behind your back

The architect "X", I pose more than a threat

Perform on your set, Hip hop—nah, a war vet

Storm the context, the mic’s my sword of iron

Use it like Conan for survivin', you chose to battle against this lion

Roaring, I could go on and on and on and

F-O-F roamin', hit hard like a stonin'

Leavin' opponents all broke down into components, kid

Quote this the exact way, I wrote this, composed this

[Hook: Aasim] (x2)

Keep lacing ‘em with fly shit, my shit

Me and my clique, the niggas I was born with—probably die with

Get high with, write three-dozen live rhymes with

London Iced Tea sipping, Hooptie-driving kids I ride with

[Verse 3: Aasim]

My phonics is economics, my atomic bomb be casualties

I think I was a accident born through acid from batteries

I’ve expressed myself verbally since the birth of me

Niggas couldn’t acquire my skills if they had surgery

Literally, I could lyrically start a colony in Italy

Mentally and physically—Yo son, niggas is feeling me

If rap was church, I’d be the pastor and the freakin' deacon

After I finish speaking, niggas brains’ll be leaking

Competition that want head-on collisions: Get a airbag!

I chisel through littered crews, like tanks through troops in Baghdad

Emcees: they got the bomb, they got duds, I got studs

Blowing spots when they drop—Take me out? Get off the drugs

From Malibu to The Avenue, they blast the tape

Can’t stand rapping after wack rappers ‘cause they be leaving that wack aftertaste

I rhyme phat, girls reach climax, form one line now...