I undergo a metamorphosis, adrenaline coursing

In every endorphin whenever I begin the recording

Penning in elements, well I’m swell at this every morning

Eventually touring shore to shore, till then I been snoring

I’ve never been friends with more than a quarter of four real emcees

So we can be buddies but it doesn’t mean your fuckin' lyrics deep

I really can freak and beat up a beat whenever I steal with the Thief

So maybe you’re taking your reputation way too seriously

You feeling me? I be up and I’m really speaking

I’m geeking but you have no Eyedea my abilities

The leader of my facility, will I be impressed with the filth I see?

Prolly not you novices jocking the mic to reveal you’re weak

I’m bored with you, I’m sticking with The Boiler Room

Put on my garden gloves, getting more hoes than a mormon do

Of course you’re blue, hoarse and remorseful

When I tore the boom- bap apart

You rappers are plastic, I’m born to torture you

You really don’t want it to be a lot of the beef if caught up with me

I gotta be stomping it clean predominantly whenever you’re starting it, B

When I get a bothering I can be kind of a mean spirit

You hear it? I’m honestly godly kid, fall upon your knees

1:03 So what are you tryna be besides the glee club captain?

You even sucked a lot of the D before your team was rapping

Making the wack kids obsolete and probably snapping

Attack 'em with battle axes till I’m the last on the axis

And that’s it, the jig is up

Really I don’t give a fuck

So if you feel the same then get waving and put your fingers up

See I've been getting buck, though I’m not really getting bucks

Oh deer, the coast’s clear, I don’t fear you sitting ducks

Isn’t I insidious when I bust? Kid I must be

You acting like I’m rapping at maximum? Shit, I’m rusty

You crabs are acting crusty, don’t fuck with me buddy, trust me

I’m lusting for blood and hungry, just might have to eat you up see?

Give me a minute when half asleep, diminish the air that I have to breathe

Do whatever you gotta be, I’ma be still crafting a masterpiece

Whoever said the grass is greener and cleaner

Over there apparently never seen the other side of the trash heap

I keep seeing people claim to be woke that act sheep

But just because you roll with wolves don’t mean you're in the pack G

So while you're borrowing cash for gas for your dad’s jeep

I’m casually posted in lavish limos in the back seat

That or I’m driving a scrapper pile of crap

And going back and forth from rocking to mediocrity just like that

One minute I’m giving a killer performance and touring

The next I’m dying of boredom trying to score tiny morsels like, “What? I rap?”

Fuck it, I love it, I’m picking the pen up for the fun of it

Making a fool of me truly any time I’m in public

When I rhyme I’m insufferable, one tough little son of a bitch

Who’d get a competitor pissed at any event whenever and get ‘em to quit

Yup, I do flex, I’m too vexed if you’re hard

But I've been tuff with two F’s since I got my first report card

Son, I’m more raw than pork off the bone slaughtered

Seconds ago, still tryna draw breath although its own throat's sawed up

Colder than snow water, but homie nobody's hotter

I told you, I’m supernova exploding over you squalors

A ronin going alone and knowing he’d grown his own honor

Don’t bother approaching, I’ll leave a teetering foe tottered

Hah, it’s like that

Go play with your iPad

The minute I’m settling into the set I’ma never be giving the mic back

My weakest frees easily beat your peaking climax

So fight back, you’ll find that you’re finna be sent on a flight path

I rap with intention, to create a great invention

You can replay again and again over your engines into ascension

The breadwinner, I been iller than ten Illidans

Mention I got a head bigger than Ben Stiller

You best give him attention

Bring it back when I kick that rap

Breath so bad I’ma need a tic-tac

Beat it competing when I’m impeding all the people

Got ‘em bleeding defeated when I’ma spit that crack

Lick this sack and my big dick

Yeah the kid’s sick when I sit and nitpick the track

Let me get a little minute to deliver the sentiment

That you been about as threatening as picnic snacks

It’s sad, nitwits thinking they’re big shit

When they get a little pat on the back

Slap on the rag, back on the pad

Wack and a crap rapper that lack on a track

Got a knack to react

I don’t gotta ask to enact an attack

Why they gotta blather 'bout a swagger

Scatter ‘fore I’m cracking your neck with a bat

So what it do Winnie the fuckin’ Pooh?

Whats up with you?

Your buckle's always set to “M” for mini, shit, I’m double you

Doesn’t it trouble you sucking so fuckin’ much boo boo?

Believe me, even Hubble can’t see me, I bring the ruckus fool

Slamming a cold one, I’m prone to bring pandemonium

Told you I’m Vegito and Broly mixing with Obi-Wan

'till I am the only one holding a microphone

I come throwing bunches of punches, you punks are lunches

It’s over son