Armor-padded soul, so you won't ever catch a body Nah, at least not with me, no ifs and or prollys Whack motherfuckers c'mon copy, I fucking dare ya to do it Go ahead and cross the line, bob your head be stupid Pretend for even a minute you've got an ounce of influence It's the wicked, wild kid, who's wrecking mics as the truest They put my lines on the table, go and snort em like dimes Cracked out, hidden in the drains, you motherfucking Pennywise bitches Man, I know it's true, I've got this illness These lyrics? I killed it Not allergic to no failure, just Aumugsiclyn Swear I was rhymin in a past life, kickin ass Breakin fragile egos and steady whippin on all that That's a fact, and ain't no way you gonna conceal it Like a gun out in public, only way you gon fear is if you hear Real shit!