your shots might as well be blanks Palestinian rocks to my Israeli tanks the words produce low afterthought while my appears your soul like the diary of Anne Frank none of their punches encounters will land your hand skills can compare to my dexterity lyrical skills aren't more complex just hard to understand due to the lack of intelligence and integrity Sam Hunt's character never take a stand the cruel take the bread right other hand foreigners in GOD's land they lost their salt mother thought your bland they're just foreigners in God's land so scram feeling like Malcolm x in the Audubon room surrounded by enemies pretending not to be knowing imma die soon their thoughts are crude empty minds that hold grudges over simple feuds their words don't compute while mine will take you for a loop my black b**** want to jump the broom meanwhile I'm making blood sacrifices in a full moon the crown is heavy on the throne reading Jung depression starting a loom career starting to bloom disrespect one of us we go stupid Looney tune running up on their ass with a mask on looking like Dr Doom never saw it coming all they heard was the boom have your family in suits like if it was going to family feud my goons will fire off on cue and more than willing to settle any dispute here I have some food for thought for you to chew when it comes to our destiny we have no clue in the courtroom didn't say one syllable but still got 17 cause of his co defendants haiku he should be home soon.