This beat is just for me, I don’t do it for your peeps

And it’s so damn raw, I need soda pop

And if you’re going to pop, don’t hold it back, come on

Yeah, I am so raw, I’m so depressed, can’t fix me yeah

I’m Alex D, AD and Klash, I go by several names

But they give me several pain

Yeah Sarah Palin, why are you running? You can’t hide anything

Yeah, you got no legs, I cut ‘em off, so why you try, ok?

Why are you even movin'? I thought I already shoot ya

I’m cryin’ here, tears are on my face, a waterfall

On my neck, on my torso

You don’t know the pain that I felt

I can’t estrange it from myself

Indict, extraditе, extra white

Extra guys don’t wanna be mе because I beat me every single night

You don’t know I put words just to rhyme, and I might lie

And I might say something that is not true just to get it popping off

To you, screw, ooh

I am the mister magic

Everything that I do is with a wand

And I swaap it, swand it, swat it, swap it

Everything you do is wrong shit, all it is

He’s gonna be hooting

I’m a bad boy, man, I’m fat as hell

So damn Asian, that is real

My voice is so husky, fuck me, girl

If you don’t like my style, just turn it off

And if you wanna be just turned on, guy--get your grind on, girl--get your guy on

And you know that it’s real and it’s unfair shit

Living in America, just suck my eh

If you don’t censor that shit by yourself

You know that record company will do that thing

‘cause they got motherfuckers who got nothing to do but to turn the dial

Or slow down or put the bleep on when your speech on

‘cause they don’t like the motherfucking thing that you was saying

Like I just said I got too much damn swearing

And if you swerve in or out, make sure your car’s got extra power

Extra horse under the engine Hemi

If you hem the thing, you don’t know how to sew a thing

Like I took mine to the dry cleaners

They made it longer instead of shorter like I told ‘em to do

I’m going off on tangents, my rhymes don’t make sense

I can’t even rhyme things

I wasn’t black, I didn’t grow up poor, so up yours

Up doors and knock down doors ’til I get three downed doors

3 Doors Down, "Kryptonite"

Shit, you don’t, you cannot write

Hold it, beasties get me, hit me

I’m a beastie, I get this like beasts be

Hit me up with another track

I get so much bad

And what comes to me, unfair, un-you

Undo un-cunts, you can’t do the do, I am country move

I got so much shit upon my looting

You couldn’t take that from me, then funk me

Kill me, until I’m a dead meat

There’s nothing wrong with my playa

So I’m a paranoid that I say a

There’s water on my motherfucking mp3 player

Or cd player or an iPod player

Whatever, I am not a playa

If you don’t like me then just stop a playa

Stop this player, put the stop on button

Put the play off and put it off for another day or crush that shit

I’m at the end, suck my

Was I just saying that?

I just sure did, I’m done