Came in to say this, the definition of "murdered you on your own shyt".
Its not hard to get murdered by a superior lyricist, his vers his dope as fukk but i def love chadios verse on that track, dude flowed it perfect:
I was hot as 97 in '73 D.O.B. my pedigree multiple felonies see You spit phlegm I spit fumes Across the ruins of kiosks hoverin' sand dunes A miniature man-nume, it's National Lampoon's Alien Vacation I'm abductin' muthafukkin' rappers to my inner space station (What?) For sheezy, When Ras Kass get to swervin' off 'gnac, believe me I hit below the belt Bustin' nikkaz balls like Riddikk Bowe versus Gulotta Hell yeah I'm a rida Ain't nuttin' sweetie, cancer causin' like saccahrin Action, intoxicated chinky-eyed black men An' nowadays fools forget what they actually named Besides a loyal cadets and priceless briquettes Basically, I don't give a shyt how rich ya get I'll have you in the car talkin' to yourself Like Alanis Morisette with turets (Oh wee..that's right...) I like sisters with vaginas so... (Can we get freaky toniiiiight...) Donald Trump wouldn't let you shine his shoes my man If you pissed off you dyin' with your dikk in your hand Plus when shyt hits the fan, I mean when Ras reach the crowd And verse to verse, switch my aura then rotate Earth And fukk that servin' emcees and livin' bummy I'm on some show me the money and still educate the dummies
CHORUS It's all about me for you and you for me And playa if ya do for two we do for three You think it's 'bout the cash, the cars and jew-el-ry We livin' in the age of the ebonic plague (2x)
[Chadio] You see the words is meshin' through this lyrical aggression Punks pop shyt we Joe Pesc'em no question Cru session, no time for second guessin' Frontin' or fessin', we full court pressin' Testin', any in our way learn a lesson Feather in my Stetson, chrome plated Wesson We ain't got no time for excuses and reasons Bringin' nuttin' but butta in all four seasons Wanna blow my nose when I'm sneezin', wit' hundred dollar bills Foes I'm squeezin', breezin' Through your nearest town wit' the frown expression Those Bronx streets left a lastin' impression Now think about this, imagine Cru rhymeless Like this world with no clock bein' timeless Pure dope when it come to the oratorical Stay on the low wit' a dime that's adorable Got the rap shyt covered like long johns Big brother Ant taught me how to bear arms L.A. to D.C. I gets my P.C. Keeps me a fifth of B.C. And we gon' drink to your pass peeps that flashed heat Never no more, when I pull I blast he Think you could deal? You crazier than Bjork, hold up on fantasy island with orouke.