TM : and we went to the knock out club to find the locals to see what they think of merry ave's prospects in the raplympics?
Man : if you aint from queens,QB i dont respect you as an MC. especially them shallow ass brooklyn MCs brooklyn are the most garbage borough of New York MC's. all about me, me, me, coke powder, shoot this, me, me, me ... the queens nikka is about "we, we, we, coke powder, stick up this, we, we, we" brooklyn are buns bro. dont let me get started on the effeminate west ...
TM : then dont start.
Man : we dont pimp butterflies nikka, we love all gods children.
TM : real talk.
Teen :
i guess the jewel is, get reckless for the peace to be present
the footage's, show excalibur was the holy sentence,
i spit it out, the sinners move a different route, the top tournament
i adorned the winners garms, iced and golden eagle like ghostface arms
stay calmed when facing penaltys, top corner del piero, my nggas remember me
black capital D, capital B i see, the penitary lights is the hall of fame nights
wont be grappling mics, just rail curtains hoping no physical pain is worth it
homemade shanks is bursting, COs thirsting for a bonus
i fit him for the tailor, swiftly, like joe jonas, im strictly about bank cahones
TM : ok, ok, these are the young pups.
Teen : you're in my class T!?
TM : but im a rap veteran tho.
Teen : you still got to show for that one.
TM : oh bet!?
writing in the dark, high as the tip of noahs ark,
nothing on the name, but hard caine and shame,
and partake in the garms tailormade for the ape
i skate from the jakes, in a volvo estate, and boost the crime rate,
off a rhyme page, off or online,
i click click fine, platinum designed, murder on my mind,
cos i still see pure grind, radio got grime,
that i got no time until rolex is the presence then recline
subwoofer ink drop, t money mink fox, for the bytches
and cardier sisters, in the pink porche trucks
swift like bruce lee's nun chuks,
Man : he went in, that was bars.
TM : facts only friend!
