YO, POP SMOKE, IT'S THE BISCIT AGAIN, I BEEN HAVIN THESE LUDICROUS 3,000 LUCID DREAMS, MY SEWER'S ARE KILLIN ME, LIKE A 1,000 MEN, I NEED YOUR GUIDANCE ONCE AGAIN. 5AM, I WAKE UP FROM A DEAD SLEEP, I TRY TO REACH, AM TO WEAK. I SPEAK, ALL I GET IS A BLEEP, BLEEP. MY SEWER CHILLS, REAK OF DEATH, I TAKE A DEEP BREATH, AM A HOT MESS, I MUST CONFESS, AM DEPRESSED TO THE POINT THAT AM MORE LESS THAN THE COMPETITION. I WEEP, I CAN'T LEAP, AM HOG TIED UP LIKE A SHEEP, I TURN MY BOGGULATED MIND TO THE RIGHT, I GLAZE OUT MY 4×2=8, SEWER WINDOW, I LOST MY RAY OF LIGHT, I WONDER IF I WILL NEVER BE THE NEXT DEXTER, I USE MY 1,000 SENSES TO UNDERSTAND THE MESSAGE. MY SEWER CHILLS, HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, TOO YOU NEALMOON. MY PLATINUM LYRICS ARE GOIN DECAPITATED YOUR NECK, DRINK YOUR MEMBRANE FLUIDS FROM THE UPPER DECK OF MY G.B. 6,000 JET. I TAKE MY RUSTY DAWL SEWER KNIFE, I RIP YOUR GUT WIDE OPEN, HOW I SAIL OFF INTO THE 7 SEAS, IN MY BRAND NEW YACHT. I PULL OUT YOUR SMALL INTESTINE, AM IN THE GUINNESS BOOK FOR THE MOST JUMP ROPE WITH THE HUMAN DIGESTIVE SYSTEM. I GRAB YOUR LARGE INTESTINE, TO MAKE ME A CUSTOM 38IN. SEWER BELT, I BREAK EVERYONE OF YOUR FINGERS OFF. I CHOP THEM UP, TO PUT THE LOGO B.F.B. ON MY CUSTOM SEWER BELT BUCKLE. I KNOW, AM A CREEP, AM HITTIN THESE HATERS RIGHT OUT OF THE BALLPARK, I KEEP IN SHAPE, SMELL THAT AROMA, IT'S MY 11IN. BALLPARK LEAVIN POSITIVE MARKS UP-N-DOWN YOUR BITCH'S THROAT. I SHRED YOUR BITCH'S TONSILS, WHERE THEY DON'T EXIST, I DESECRATE YOUR BITCH'S ESOPHAGUS, INTIL SHE TURNED BLUE, I PROCEED TO MIKE TYSON EVERYONE OF YOUR BITCH'S TEETH, AM THE CHIEF, THERE WILL BE NO PEACE, I'LL SLICE YOU UP LIKE GOVERNMENT CHEESE, WITH MY SEWER CHILLS. YO, POP SMOKE, IT'S THE BISCIT AGAIN, I BEEN HAVIN THESE LUDICROUS 3,000 LUCID DREAMS, MY SEWER'S ARE KILLIN ME, LIKE A 1,000 MEN, I NEED YOUR GUIDANCE ONCE AGAIN