[Intro: BlakkJakk]

Yeah, yeah

Throw in that butter real quick, man

Make it real flavorful and all that

Yeah

[Verse 1: BlakkJakk]

Passionless rappers get casketed with no remorse

Was holdin' my spot until after it, show them off

Sworn by your sword, behind them, a trail of slain amateurs

The pen packed with coke and cannabis when he handle script

The rhetoric reflects off they teachin'

They probably underrated, no, they the pride of their region

Season the spoken word, that's the Kind elevated

From dope to complex, from quotes and context

With an ill Reed Richards flow

So, my shit's designed to stretch

Check my lines and text, be like 9s and TECs

F airplay, the Kind get divine respect

Said it took some time craftin' this God's gift

Roller coaster ride, emergency break to train wreck, uh

But from that, emerged greatness

Attention was well underpaid like a blank check

They base steps off history's past tracks

They wonder how we make leaps and bounds without lookin' back

Bound to be the greatest, we studied from the best of them

You must be irrelevant to question his intelligence

We lift off, rip raw, best acknowledge he's been deaf to you and yours

More sleepy hollow than hollow tips

Come on, Joe, you've really got to be kiddin'

Waitin' to blow up, we givin' them aneurysms

Quick with the remedies and rhythms and the writtens

I be kickin' this lyrical ammunition

[Verse 2: JaY STeeZ]

Yo, peep the rhyme, used to do this in the leisure time

Read the fine print, I redefine writin' easy lines

First Amendment, lethal coerce of penmanship

With or without a pen, I proceed to exert my excellence

I'm excellin' in more rhymes and rugged raps

Without holdin' a duffle bag or bustin' caps

You frontin', man, I'ma do it 'til my lungs collapse

And blow way ahead of my time, Tunguska blast

You really thinkin' you ahead of me, dude?

My competition was dead before I stepped in the booth

If there was some competition, excuse them from condescendin'

But I have been kinda settin' some tension for my contenders

At least, what's left of them

'Cause many men have been turned into excrement, hah

Regurgitate rappers

Ain't just an amateur if you worthy of battlin'

I'm crossin' off names with an asterisk

The mic check is like a vise-grip to grab your limb

I gave a "Much obliged" for the wordplay

Along with a bag of ice and a first aid

Won't believe he's underage and he's that ill

But you will surprised by the range of this cat's skill

Come on, homie, get a clue

Spittin' a written, the vividest individual

Showin' what my pen will do would get rid of you

Five words: "I am so fuckin' lyrical"

(Woo!)