Gimme the motivation for the art

Fail on ya wack ass beats with no heat and no heart

While sounding just like a fart and then bark

Talking bout' some cars Glocks and gucci

But why did you start for money

Just get out of the route

Ya'll look same as a girl scouts

Worth about one penny on your feats

But I'm a cheer-rapper slaughterhouse

Bounce and make the fake ricochet like hate

Perpetrate loud and bake hard then eat you like a steak

Retard and weak punks trying to enter in a game shame

It ain't no game its just more fame or more bang bang

Land of the slave fighting in free and equality lane

Right but insane brain bringing lyrical pain

In vain you stay lame and blame everybody

So I came to blast tracks like gats lyrically

Not signing autographs but I wrap around n roll the stash

Physically and then rationally

Funk ya'll and mash stack no cash only fat sensi bags

Drag you in the streets so you can see whats going on, in fact

Like 2Pac said lets end the war on the streets

By legalizing weed and stop greedy fighting for stupid racists laws

Draw and feed when I explore another painting with the raw style and flow that compose my prose and just to show to most of your punk crew

How could I deny if you

Just lying here with your stupid shooting dumbsters and Lil' PooPoo

You didn't wrote your own shit didn't you?

Don't ask me if I rhyme about you man

Cause if the shoes fit well

Please man feel free to wear it

Stay true like X to the Zibit

Keep one rolled and always stay out of the fucking gimmicks or mimmicks

Gimme the motivation for the art

Fail on ya wack ass beats with no heat and no heart