 angles coming at you like, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, you don't know what's going on, son. I'm not that far right there with shit. I don't know why I said it. Mainly I said it so body bagging on Bamelang can make you look sick from different angles in the edit. Looking at you now, it's like you found it again. But I've always told the fans I could write like this. Now each line, I strip, so make each round sound like it's a highlight grip. So I don't care who my guy is. I'm only here to document the powers that be like a zeitgeist if this is night, night, bitch. You've already put a rap on it, steps in the ring, the twight, fight, brits, I've got my black gloves up, my tights on his fight, night, shit. See, Bamelang talks too, but we all know you haven't lived a life like this. You build your life around spectacles, exactly like his eyesight is now. Looking at you now, it's already a body of me and villains show, no shame, nothing like my team. Consisting stoke, you shot his ginger midget, cloned up at your little boat into hot water and see if you can sink or float. So keep up in this rap shit or be jumped for practice like skipping ropes. And I hit this bloke so hard it'll split in two, you're like Goku vs Piccolo. This is payback for everything that you did to Soul, because they said that you won, but we both know that you didn't, though. Your style's one of them online prank videos, but it always ends in punches that isn't joke. This is a local match in your city, so your name's getting swiped on screens like Tim the Hose. Don't you get it? I mean talk is cheap, so I let my guns do the talking for me, whilst you sound too tame, nigger. My guns talk the talks, but if you try to walk, the walk is you, they injure. One pistol, silence the one that barrels, so when I shoot they whisper, I sneak up on him. And I let that tink, talk behind his back, I really am a two-faced nigga. You can't bother this dark and crazy half-awakened, got villains shook, they weren't expecting the bars. Some of this shark is tasted, he said I couldn't break him down, but watch me pick apart my plate like Piranha Bakers. I can see in his eyes the deep anxiety, I've got the heart to face me at the conference. You might know how to embrace, but now it's Saturday night, live on that talk show like Carson Daly, fucking. In that 2012 killer crop, you know, villain, og, hostile, these guys have been ripping off, used to be chill villain, but the chilling stopped, I'm killing dog like the pistol lock on Mr. Blunt, have him nicking shots like Brigzy Chopin. Put the kids through hell, like Fritzel's lot. Oh, like Shinobi's shoes, I'm not your friend, I'm the photo, try ID, I'll snap in front of your face like a photo booth, that means, that means try with those heavy hands, metal bands, cause that'll be your death tone. You got writers block, I came to write on blocks, I'm talking about your headstone, you got a way with killing words, I got a way with killing rappers, like Shulk Knight and Death Row, so get the large, so get the large salute, so it's all tuned, we'll give teeth, pain and correct tone, there's levels to this shit. And it lead to a pattern in your battles, ask the kids in the crowd, you know them bitch to each forget to start sticking around, it's like last orders, and the bartender's kicking you out, you got a full pint on the table, you want quick enough in swigging it down, how is that applicable now, you ain't figured it out, well they cool time in your bars cause you can't finish a round, yeah, they sick.