[Intro:]

Uh Mr. Smith, Mr Smith, Mr Smith

Uh Mr Smith, it's the bomb y'knowhutI'msayin? Mr Smith
Mr Smith, word up kid, yeah Mr Smith, check it out


[Verse 1:]

I'm goin to the top leavin smoke in my trail

(*##$ $$# gangstas put that $$# on sale
And even if I'm twice as expensive as the rest
when I go for dolo you ain't checkin for nuttin less

My strategy is splittin brain cavity's
It's ya majesty bringin you a tragedy
Yeah, on the butcher block slice her like a ox

When it's time to get down, ^!$$% I jam like a Glock
I bust thru all types of red tape and sue papes
^!$$%s come old but they always wanna infiltrate

I'm cuttin snakes thru the belly witta icepick
and scoopin hotties, a strong aisle of flip trips
It's the rebirth of murkin ^!$$%s once again

I drain with ink and put your blood in my pen
I'm breakin ribs til somethin gives
A ^!$$% got to live and Mr Smith is power god, kid


[Chorus:]


Mr Smith you got the %#@! sewed up
Work ya thang baby, show em how to blow up
[repeat x3]


[Verse 2:]


What? You wanna do what? You lack the vitality
originality, so face reality
I'm on some ole wild %#@!, ya ^!$$%s can't get wit

Matter of fact, mornin yawn and suck a dick
Nah hold up, the $#&@ is goin on?
All these cartoon character MC's gettin airborne

Takin off like a hot air balloon
Goin up up up, oh no kaboom
Bring your heroes down to ground zero

Shotty grippin ya grill like Pesci and DeNiro
I'm on some [BLANK] %#@!, throats is gettin %#@!
Scoopedin New Jacks and kick em in the *?fire bit?*

Tell them ole !#@& ^!$$%s they need to go and stick it
cos when it comes to this rap %#@! I'm mad wicked
The grand sire bringin flavour to the whole game

Mr Smith is my mother$#&@in name

[Chorus]


To the bridge


[Bridge:]

Mr Smith (I was a mack since birth)

Talkin bout Mr Smith (I invented the taadow!) Uh
Talkin bout Mr Smith
Talkin bout Mr Smith

Talkin bout

[Verse 3:]


Time's up, your rhyme's up, mix the lines up
I'm about to blow the spot up with that divine touch

I got the magnetic energetic lyrical calasthetic
Ya better call a medic cos ya look pathetic
Guan boy it's the champion Mr Smith

Your ^!$$%s couldn't raise up with a forklift
@@#!ed the hammer, peep out the grammar
It's hard like Bacardi and hot like a house party

All your so-called flavour ^!$$%s is deaded
Your next step is where ya headed so don't forget it
Your rhymes is beat, your steelo's scarred to scrape

When you scream you sound muddy like a bled teeth
I get'cha open like f-lay, 'tack you when I spray
Lethal compositions around your way
I'm the maniacal murderous Mr James Smith
Rippin ya $$# out the frame with my verbal gift


[Chorus to fade]