Juug Uh Listen, Take it back to the vinyl scratch, A time machine to save the final raps, The ones that started it all before the styles trapped, Before the saliva all over the mic was whack, Artists spittin’ lame verses no one comin’ with that fire pack, It’s time to fire back, Take it back to higher rap, When you had to stay outside the record store to buy a track. It’s the grave that I will leave it at, The harvest there’s no reapin’ that, Grim reaper this grim reaper that, I’ll take you out like debo yeah, All this emo ish the screamo rap, The singin’ crap and even trap, All of which is below bap, It’s all rhetorical but true artists we know that, Stop blowin’ smoke that’s straight out of the pre-roll pack. Roll with speed and mobbin’ deep, Alias’ 2 or 3, Who are we, The ruthless being, Of lucid dreams, And hoopin’ dreams, Ball is in my court and I ain losing these, Bruisin’ things, Oh soothing beats, Destroying instrumentals inside the booth and he’s.. Acting outta character, Spazzin’ just like a pair of a, Symese twins.. With violins, Defiled with-in America, He’ll stare atchu, Each glare with a, Motive to take your skeleton. I mean the bone is deep the thug in him, Abundant whims, That’s stems from bullies - yeah a bunch of them. The urge to wipe the slate and uh, Sneak around don’t wake it up, The giant sleeps.. I’m finding things.. That could make my mind so dangerous, The rage in us, The flame in us, Needs out but it’s cagin’ up. I sometimes think of things, They’re evil things, The coincide with evil beings, I try to change the coin inside.. There’s no denying.. I need God to get me out from beneath these things.