The Microphone Molesta 

The chevy undresser 

Stupid dope fresh tight shit resurrector 

Top gun man mod best of the besta 

The living MC peace and resta 

Still tested the flexed gunna 

The make funna the appisary make runna 

Make summa cold with rhymes that spit 

Get gifted, lifted, deliquent wit 

I be the prophet, in my hand 

Top it, stop it, felt like rockin when I rock it 

Locked it down with this perverse verse 

Every fuckin curse I burst to hurt 

Room crowds physical fitness rhymes 

Coke heads couldn't do my lines 

Decorated like christmas pines with Italian rocks 

MCs become silohetes in shock 



Chorus: 

Reading my eyes will say it in many ways 

Losing my pride will save it in many days 



Hit the dirt 

Because the words I spit will do more than just rip your shirt 

I'll bitch slap your soul 

Track the track control 

You coming at me? 

You can't hack it though 

So rediculous 

Watching my crew get sick of this 

Wickedness 

Pitchin this 

Lyrical brichisness 

To crews and cliques 

Maiden, men, and mistresses 

This is my life 

The twilight, the fight night 

And trying to see nothing but the highlights 

When I write 

These eyes on horizons 

Top of Mike, start cries on to Krylon 

Fire on, rude men telekenetically 

As aterically beats become a clarity 

Feel averity's heroism, and heracy 

And severe every MC I see with Neverity 



Chorus 



Why not 

What a keep (3x) 



Why not give me what I came to deserve 

Why not give me what I came to believe (2x)