In my mind I'm a fighter, my heart's a lighter My soul is the fluid, my flow sparks it right up Arsenic writer, author with arthritis Carpal tunnel, Marshall will start shit-itis Hard headed and hot headed, bull headed and pig headed, Dick headed, a prick, a big headache I'm sick Quick witted, for every lyric spitted there are six critics Who wait for me to slip with it, so quick This dynamite stick buried the wick, it's gonna explode any minute Some lunatic lit it and it's not Nelly Do not tell me to stop yelling, when I stop selling I quit So stop dwelling an' I am not felling You fuckers are not ready, 'cause I got jelly, like (Beyonce's) pot belly This is destiny, yes money I'm of running So get off of me, I'm not slowing or softening No apologies, nah suckers I'm not sorry You can all sue me, y'all could be the cause of me No apologies, y'all feelin' the force of me No remorse for me, like there was no recourse for me No apologies, not even acknowledging you at all 'Til I get a call that God's coming No apologies, laugh fuckers it's all funny I can spit in ya face while your standin' across from me No apologies