[Verse 1]

Call me Nigga Jim, sarcastic grin

Sipping a cup of original sin, full to the brim

Cowards snitching again, put the whole hood in the pen

And those was they friends, you know a thug, I ain’t him

No do-rag and no timbs, still pushed through like bang grim

Rocky, just watch me still properly, ice check mic hockey, sip sake

Write my name like Taki, can’t stand a photocopy

Pipe-heads try to cop me, like you holding that poppy

Not trying to be cocky, but don’t pass it to Billy if it’s sloppy

Stress got my lyrics choppy

[Verse 2]

Here’s a rule of thumb, a gun liable to make you act dumb

And forget you ain’t the only nigga who got one

I’m nasty as Robert Crumb

William Woods, Tiger style hole-in-one

Got little men on my tongue and they having fun

Making words run

Busting off puns in cybernetic slums

Outside the pearly gates I’m Christ’s plus one

I’m what would have happened if Shakespeare smoked drums

Attila The Dun, get my raps off your gums

Spitamatic off the numb lung, inhale that THC dust

Start moving on macross plus, flushed

With purple kush, hand grenade raps to bust

Harry Houdini in cuffs

007 told me the world’s not enough

Aiming verses at Jupiter, I got the right stuff

Where I’m from we ain’t chill on blocks

Streets was too hot, ain’t no straight shots

In the woods where we hide from cops

Light pot and brew hops, MCs retraining ‘em

To move subterranean with landmine rhymes

Underground like coffins, burn a spliff often

Crunchy shit got me coughing, holding more green than Boston

March seventeen, rap’s Abbie Hoffman

Levitate the Pentagon in between pulls off the bong

My pen write wrong, climbing fire escapes

On some Donkey Kong, if popo here I’m gone

Good old boys never meaning no harm

Down south have you back on the farm

With chains on your legs and arms

Singing them sad sad colored songs