We're on another tier like a tear duct's upper echelon...
feel like a victim of child abuse, 'cause I am 'bout to get that goddamn belt
I'm so guilty, holding on to these bars like life sentences
Don’t lie about the character, I’m telling you it’s bad luck, cos reaching out like Eniola is a bad Morse
I'm that emcee, killing shit for royalty. It's really assassin's creed...
Call this evil intent, like me in a limo...
Cause my shit stay over there head like carry on luggage
If I was to ever take a leave, It would be aspirin to break a feve…
I bring them bars back like you violated parole!
This shit could end up comin' to blows like a wiener...