ABOUT
Loose-leaf cigarettes be dipped in wet chicken of the seas, get trapped inside my net with their clothes off, son. When the gun goes off, I'm bound to play Napoleon and blow a nose off—your Sphinx; your stumble rap style, your flow's off like Kunta, trying to run with his chopped toes off. Unchallenged sword I wield, the storm rider, clip full of ruffled-tip fast-acting long fire. Four hundred grain cartridge with steel casing, those who can't draw the crowd are still tracing. The mic is cast to the floor and shapeshifted, heavy as the hammer of Thor, you can't lift it.
