The craft so sweet we pushing pens With no nomination luck Picking up ma mic's real No dealing with em fickle wretches Da'bombing in the booth it thrills Overthrow ya fiendish raps Like Atomic bomb am dropping mines Blowing ryt away ya basements Perished ya'll with bated breaths Crawling behind ya drops of blood Can't contain the pain inside Fire catches along with gases Ya heart's palpitating high Cool only with holy truth One with mercy Messiah got Step outta ya filthy business Making ya to kick the rocks More persuasion for ya kite to dry N yeah it's really cut n dry They're in love with this taste of blood Like a habit to their daily lives They can't go a day without