Lyrics
The best of the best
Hey
A style you ain't heard in a while
Grab the mic, begin to bless it like 1, 2 check it
I'm a different kind of beast with the finest pedigree
We taking it all like a divorce, these rappers can't comport
We swoop like two hawks and show little remorse
For leaving rappers with just eight teeth like two forks
They know jack, so probably worship beanstalks
Ain't here for peace talks, we turn this to cream sauce
They hearing the priest walk
Blood pressure increased more
This is what it sounds like when MC's go to war
This is what it sounds like when MC's go to war
Cos' these fools flood the stores with pure horse manure
That style ain't couture, those rhymes won't endure
They crew unsecured like a table missing the fourth
A fable with no force, a stable with no horse
They paper ain't going north, they flava is getting torched
We sharp and burn rappers like razors that get scorched
We stand tall, so all these contenders will get dwarfed
Like kids playing a sport with giants on full court
My movement's in motion
Do you feel me though?
I think you should know this
Huh, these figures breaking my focus
I'm seeing wolves furs, but characters bogus
This one's authentic, that's a stencil persona
I know they missed me
Like some calls about some money owed
I'm built like thick racks, yeah I've come close
But I could never fold
I don't get provoked, I've been to war already
Line him through the sight, right through the telescope
I don't walk with many, everyone around me plays the field
My aim steady, If it's on a mic, I should be paid to kill
And If my set can't feel it, then it ain't real
Grip it like it's Pisa, with a slight tilt, I'm grit build
Grew up in the cold, my heart froze and now I'm weathered
Rain pours, I'm outdoors, I got rewards for my endeavours
See the storm, I don't abort
I sound the horn and send a message