[clip from Family Guy]:
Oh my God, it all makes sense now. My baby is some kind of diabolical genius bent on world domination
Bravo Lois, the last horse finally crosses the finish line
[Verse 1:]
Yo, yo, I’m the crossbred genetically engineered version of
Charles Manson’s DNA and Tupac’s murderer
I’ve been real, so if I feel you fake then you’re dead
There’ll be hell to pay, like you owe Satan some bread
I’ll be spraying some lead, airing you out on some foul shit
I’ll rock your jaw, like I’m wearing your mouth as an outfit
I’ve been bout it bout it since I was breast fed
Sick as Eazy-E teaching sex ed on his deathbed
Mad at the world so I live by the gun
Like Smith and Wesson with my neighbours on the strip I was from
I open doors, to incite riots and go to war
Still broke and poor, with million dollar vocal chords
I’ll rape your speakers, rob you and take your sneakers
While I razor slit a label leader’s facial features
Then take a breather, sit back while chips stack
Drink a six pack as I think about why I did that
Chorus:
[samples – Don’t compare, me to you. Motharfucka move. You ain’t their’s, you ain’t their’s] – 2X
[Verse 2:]
Yo, yo, I do what every artist does, it’s my heart and blood
But I feel like I’d have to die before I start a buzz
So I don’t show love, I just hate and smoke bud
Sticking to my guns like fingerprints with no gloves
We can throw slugs, and I can catch your body
Or fight in the club, I’m Tyler Durden at the after party
I’m criminal surrounded by five cop cars
On the streets of Toronto, screaming ‘I’ve got SARS!’
This block’s ours, but cops crucify the streets
So I love police brutality, when I brutalize police
Do or die, is what I do for my beliefs
‘Til I’m in a pine box wearing a suit and tie to sleep
Polluted by deceit and all these snakes scheming
So I see my worst nightmares while I’m daydreaming
My career’s fucked the way my manager left it
So I’ma put him on blast, his name’s Travis McFestridge
Chorus:
[samples – Don’t compare, me to you. Motharfucka move. You ain’t their’s, you ain’t their’s] – 2X
[I had enough of you man, I’m about to fuck up your plan] – 2X
[Verse 3:]
Yo, I’m the soldier hating this pop culture
‘Til I got chips like the teeth on my Nas poster
Cock toasters, cops watch from a block over
Glock holstered while I sell war to stock brokers
I’m not sober, I stay drunk watching dimes
And fill ‘em with more shots than Big and Tupac combined
Drinkin’ Moonshine, running off at the mouth
Like I’m the guy fathers warn they daughters about
A scumbag who just let the shotties spark
‘Til I’m surrounded by cops like Em with his bodyguards
Pigs say I’m a lowlife, and I think I like it
‘Cause I belong in a pen, like the ink I write with
I’m Doc Kevorkian when cops escort me in
Leaving fire on the street like Michael J. Fox DeLorean (yeah)
So fuck rap, I can see past it
I’ll cop a hundred packets, supply Ja Rule’s E habit
[Chorus]

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