Beyond Belief, man!
Aha, beyond your reach, man!
Yeah! K-Salaam, Beatnick,

Yo!
Remain very still, legendary skill,
'till the day I'm dead and buried, I'll be very ill.

Son Keri Hill, and I will kill when I feel it necessary for a petty thrill,
Colder than a February chill, with the wind chill,
I've got the street talking, non-stop, with you

It's like their lips have been sealed, wisdom instilled!
I turn heads like a spinning windmill
That's a fitted pinwheel

That's a new era, true terror!
I'm about whatever, whenever you want it,
I'll give it to whoever

New get up, new leather, new shoes, new sweater,
Do get up on your YouTube views, whose better than I?
Reppin' NY, Sarah Lee salary stacking Entenmanns pies

Cake are the words piling Benjamins high
So don't give me three thou', give me three stacks of Andres
And these cats are entrees, I should give rappers the beats,

But I'll leave that to Kanye, Bombay Sapphire-fueled
Rap satire, spat by a, rap sire, smack fire out'cha
In my all black attireâ?¦talkin all that smack, fall back

Or watch all that back fire
Back by ya popular demand
Rappers couldn't see me with an ocular exam or binoculars

Hot phlegm from my esophagus
Top ten recording from the Rock to Metropolis.
Blunt lit, dutch filled, chock full of chocolates

Got me feeling mellow, but I'm normally the opposite.
Nice like Jigga but I'm born to be the novelist,
Christ-like figure, bring the dawn of the Apocalypse!

School of Hard Knocks I got a scholarship,
Top of my class, I got a doctorate, ya dig?
Call me Jehovahs cause my name rings bell,

You fly, well I hope your $#&@ing plane wings fail
Your skinny jeans bust by the lining in your crotch
And the diamonds in your watch and your chainlink melts

You lames thinkin everything's swell
All right, let me catch the owner of that blog site in a bar fight
You dudes with the usernames are the hugest lames

Writing on your forum, I'm writing something for them
Lighting up the bong, writing up a storm
Y'all are in some %#@! like you're piping up the wrong hole raw with the wrong hoe

Don't get it twisted like a cornrow
Kill combo, K Sallam let the song go!
Beatnick!

I, I got the street
I, I got the street
I, I got the street

Talking, non-stop!
With you it's like their lips have been sealed! (x4)