one beat stomp ur feet want need a receipt I'm bring straight heat my rhythms are sweet I'm the sweet teat u are stinky feet little boys eat ur wheat u know this beat so make a tweet don't fuck with my fleet or we will send u In retreat cause u stand to close to our heat so u can cheat but just accepted defeat and I'll be the man on the street I started from the bottom it's my Time desever it after the climb my words burn like summertime so I work overtime past dinnertime to perfect my rhymes I'm the boy u head through the vines the one from the pines who alot undermined his wicked lines he pulls from inside instead of hides his brain is a fucken tide as he signs and refines all these sick designs and assigns each word like it's mines and underline the words to make them rhyme and thinks if this is the prime or the right time one more climb I can stand tall and shine or Fall down and whine all I know is it's time.