24 Bars, 1 Rhyme Scheme

Twenty four bars, one rhyme scheme

Listen

So sick that I think I could acquire a fever

Nobody can test when I am live on the feature

Rappers need to stop because their style is weaker

I'm surrounded by pricks like a flight to Ibiza

None of them inspire me or frighten me either

Bluntly, I could smoke 'em like I'm lighting a reefer

I am loaded with cash, they're declining your VISA

I am rolling in dough like I'm slicing a pizza

Clever when I rhyme and plug the mic in the speaker

I could write a rap philosophising with Nietzsche

Got your lady bragging at the size of my wiener

Like "Jesus, it was this big": Christ the Redeemer

Punch you in the head because your rhyming is meagre

I'll be swinging both fists because my fighting is meaner

You will get a bruised throat from my violent procedure

Then a sorer face like I'm a believer

Tasteless on the mic you're an unlikeable creature

You've got no class like a retiring teacher

I'm the sky and the aether the fire hydrogen breather

I keep it colder than a fucking liquid nitrogen freezer

Uh, keep an eye on the heater you know the iron is eager

At killing rappers I'm the highest achiever

Because to outline all the bodies from my nine millimetre

You will require more chalk than a climbing arena