[Verse 1: Kleptomaniac]

Lyrical wizardry dances on MC's like Murray on SC's

Never flaunt, now motherfuckers come test me

Burnin' everybody hotter than torches at Jamaican parties

Far from angels, niggas can't see me like Charlie

Style weak? Hardly!

Don't let the wacked pursue you like Marley

JM clique moves in packs like whities on Harleys

Niggas get injured, fucked do' in 40 fingers

Got bitches by bike-by, bussin' Glocks off a' ninjas

Klep don't give three shits to flip scripts

Dismiss bullets from clips, leave niggas rollin' up skateboards

Wit nuttin' under they hips, bitch, so if you test me

Shit gets messy, bustin' .38 speci

Outta paper bags like Joe Pesci

Yo, you know the tune

Make sure bitches don't eat

When it's time to shit out them coke balloons

Bocked up the ninja when it got shady, now I got grown ladies

Bustin' .380's outta E Class Mercedes

[Interlude]

Hurry the fuck up bitch, get on!

(Fuck you motherfucker let me out this L)

There they go right there, dot them niggas

(Motherfuckers!! )

[Gun shots]

[Verse 2: Kleptomaniac]

MC's get cut like glass, cut like class

Rag tagged and crash, hemp bags, come save dat ass

Who wanna get broke the fuck up? Tell me!

Freakin' vocabulary like Chinese and spellin' bees

T-P-E-L-K held to reflect a device-es

The nicest, Jesus Christ it's

Junior Mafioso, niggas get torn off head to torso

Bullets evacuated out windows

From Heckler and Koch, P7 inmates

Extra .380 on a string 'round my neck 'cause Feds check the waist

No time to waste, grab the loot and escape before next break

Heads are clockin', private eyes are watchin'

Nigga caught up in the hustle

Fuck flippin' packages and tyin' up, minx and rings I bubble

Trouble's what I look for in stores on expensive floors

Beelin' boots is essence, bookin' Pelle's in my drawers

Armani, Gianni Versace, V2

Lost count o' all the little sections me and mans ran through

It ain't hard to discard cans of mace on guards

Leave them bitch ass niggas screamin' like a fuckin retard

Lyrically, I come off like ink alarms

Got styles under the wing like spread is booked under my arms

Niggas couldn't see me with closed circuit TV

Tryin' to peep my steez, like DT's I get over like I'm fifteen

[Interlude]

(Hey, you're not fifteen)

I'm fifteen, what?

(What do you think we are? Assholes or somethin'?)

Fuck you! Soundin' like that nigga from Night Court

Loose my cuffs I'm outta here!

[Verse 3: Kleptomaniac]

MC's be fake like toupes so I transplant

Implant my fist to their face makin' their skin raise

Soundwaves disrupted, they fucked kid!

Earholes, blood erupted, but that ain't nuttin'

The best is yet to come

MC's get strung like heads on drums

They don't be knowin' what I'm knowin'

Flowin' like I'm flowin'

Makin' motherfuckers take nose dives like 747 Boeings

Obnoxious, beef-squashers, face-to-face

Niggas get wet up like galoshes on Klep's place

Due to hard times sayin' prayers committin' crimes

Sick minds don't care, rockin' parties from front to rear

Brains engulfed by ferocious thoughts, it's on!

Runnin' up on Big with Lex with napkins doused with chloroform

Livin' in a world where you do what you must

If preachers be robbin' niggas, who the fuck can you trust?