| Real rock, rap and not a Xerox, we're not Enough to make ya fear a lot, from here watch I ran scrimmage, and I fought to the damn finish And I popped eyes open without eating me canned spinach My fans in it, constantly tellin' me I can win it If I stand grimace damaging man every damn minute I blend it, expands quick, it slams wicked rhymes Grand spittage, HAM with it, fam dig it's, N9ne Chea! Hard to see me like the background Your rap styles coming softer than a cats meow Red laces, but booted like Im Iraq bound That frown will get you ate by my cannibal from Sac Town So relax pal, pat down, gat down, back down, blackout With a fat smile, I might react foul, so don't make this cat growl I caught everybody when I spazzed wow, who do I catch now? |