Jesters and jokers desperately approach a veteran, closer to letting these holsters open up. Test me, soldier. Better be on the set of your music videos checking my rep or be ghost by the next vocal I throw from my neck.

I'm ready to detonate this bomb, but I'm taking the time to relate this rhyme at a pace where the hate is vacant and the stakes are high. Replacing my patience with rage is not in the lane that I would choose for you when I know you can't even shoot an adjacent line.


Mixing and mastering's cool, but I spit the acid that fools have to duck and dash from or lose half of their lashes. Two halfs is what I put into this Jack, son. That's a (w)hole. You have to mask it with makeup on to hide the bruise and gashes.


Who's cracking now? I had your rapping downpacked til I started laughing at how wack I'd sound on the track and notice that was past tense. wow. Immaculate when I'm spazzing out. Hard flow. Either your snapping your back, or in fact you drown.