I be the spark from the cannon, blaze the outstanding
Tug of war, with the poor, rich, and scandlous
Roadrunning bandit, race against advancment
Style winds cause storms when I perform
I'm a ?Parker John robot? and stomp your whole spot
And beat you whole crew to a bunch of whole knots
Dissect you from the inner then declare myself the winner
Once the style clears, you'll be (real like Finner)
One of the black your contractor
Attacking your backdoor, you're trapped in my trash compactor
Move back, whore, swingings before the trap door
It's causin the capture of brothers who rap more
Yeah, check the shelling, rock niggas redder than watermelon
The grief-stricken, rotated 20&20 vision
Rap felon, hottest rebel with bad spelling
I pitch shift with unprecedented sharpness
Distributor, local street corner contributor
Word inhibitor, scientific positioner
Rhythm commision be J's for real
"He drives the corssfader like a cutmobile"
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