Lyrics

Children raising children my mom was only 16/ as I grew inside her belly 1980 was a sick dream/ Brooklyn, New York City where I drew my first breath/ but Bronx borough was our home and where I learned to be the best/, I release stress into the atmosphere/ go get a papsmear if you take dick in the ass no Diddy I'm so sincere/ that doesn't happen here, but I'm still supplying wisdom/ although some dabble in fecal we should still consider them equals/ look I've got no horse in that race dogs/ I'm just a troubled man doing my best for a just cause/ while dodging laser bolts my brain is soaking in cerebrospinal fluid/ arresting words to fill these bars like this was slavecatcher music/-ugh- in '09 I inhaled Terrigen Mist in 2010/ I broke free so the Super Dad could exist/ here in -- Dub and a Quarter I'm still raising my fist teaching my son to be a man while masculinity still exists/ not such an easy task people want me caged like Madmartigan/ but I'm more like a Spartan the way that I kick it friend/ down to the bitter end UFOs abducting men/ but ICE is far more dangerous to aliens in the interim/ I've got no horse in that race dogs/ I'm just a Super Man doing my part for a just cause/ while leaping over 304s and Karens/ faster than a speeding thumb posting something ratchet/ guess I'll bury the hatchet habeamus tabulam rasam/ I need more bandwidth/ so you can get the message encrypted within these bars/ since - finding the perfect pitch is as elusive as a faithful chick/ I'm no longer on the sucka shit just looking to suck on some perky tits/ don't be confused by that last bar/ I'm just a man who's super virile come sit in my car/ let's take a ride and drink in all the sights/ baby we can have a pleasant time while soaking in the lights/ I rhyme like this for spite these rappers can't fuck with my style/ I'm like a kung-fu master shadow boxin' Willie B.'s sounds/ these verses are my katas and I've perfected each roundhouse, strike and block/ all opponents should prepare to be knocked out then duly mocked/ I put my horse in this race dogs cause I'm the Emcee Killer and I'm choppin' off heads lord/ this ain't the realist rhyme I've ever wrote but I'm sure it might be close/ excuse the output that you're hearing I'm naturally quite verbose/ so don't put your horse in this race dogs cause I'm the Killer Emcee and I'm aimin' at heads lord you could be next/