Big ups to 91.5 live from cold k-dub   Just reminding all my guys in the world to stay up   Never had to spray slugs so I dont play thug   Or try to fit with the killers like O.J.s glove   Still cats love to see me like their own pay stubs   Out to create buzz   know that s.k. can shake clubs   like car thieves or golfers   crazy compulsive    cold killer so ill    Im giving competition ulcers   Fierce frenetic poetic pierce the pathetic plagues   My powerful prophetic poetics penetrate   This renegade relic raps rugged and demonstrates   How to scoop honnies with nothing but that angelic face   Aesthetic-based waste get shredded, I set it straight   For the hapless half-wit homies that hesitate   The hellagreat, elevated skills you celebrate   Practice??? Kid ive been this ill since seventh-grade   I dedicate this to my sis and the crew   Thanks for coming out but the competition is through   I get down       All the suckas and frauds with soft stamina dont trouble me   Duck or Ill damage ya on camera publicly   When I utter these subtleties   Brother please   Im the biggest thing out of Canada since Pamelas double-ds   Colleagues and critics all apply the accolades   To apply describe how my flyness fascinates   I activate the part of me   That advocates the artistry   The slick, sharp tongue   That would lacerate your arteries   Like an axe to the heart   Hackin apart cats lackin the smarts   Cuz Ive mastered the art   I synchronize my syndicate   For rhyme syncopation   Even skits that I improvise   Sit in syndication   Let my sinful syntax and simple grin flash   cause dimes fall victim when my dimples impact   Cats listen close for quotes or vibe to it   I school dudes and make guys students of my music   The dumb sound dopest with their mic lines muted   While my iq is so high you couldnt fly to it   I get down       My language is used   To bruise and stick damages to   Other bands and their crews   While all their slick managers do   Is just bandage their wounds   This man is just too sick for Canadas amateurs   I make em dudes do flips like coin tosses   When I rip mics like loin clothes   Stripped off a groin   Join the clik or get going   Kid your showing softness   I cross kids like Hot Sauce does   While imposters talk and jock like Bob Costas   This colossus is so pompous its preposterous   Im always jamming like Peter Toshs rastas   Getting the thoughtless tossed quicker    Than The Moffats in a mosh pit, homes   I get down like acrostic poems   My resources hold more forces   Than the torque on 400-horse Porsches   I contort, twist and torch kids    With my oral orifice   Til these dorks is nothing more than some scorched corpses   I get down       Its like Im squeezing a glock   When I creep in the spot   People get shot back    Freeze and then flop, breathe and then stop   The way I leave em in shock   Forget radio they play my flow on (Ripleys) Believe it or Not   But I still dont own the keys to the drop   Leasin to cop the beach with the yacht and dont forsee reaching the top   But thats cool cause Im frequently jocked from speaking this talk   Plus on the streets I get props   Well before I leave peace to the blocks   Where my people still beef with the cops   And get beaten a lot, it needs to get taught   And ask Kanye, Jesus can walk    Already reach for the rock, not the heat to get cocked   Releasing the shot, ending a life   No need for the pop   Ya heard? like sheep with the flock    I get down