im crunking not dumping jams laid out in front of me waiting back to crib eat a 4 coruse meal dont need a bib do it like grown up you shovernistic pig nicotine in vains im on a trip superstar slum dunk my final rite grip you by the back a spinal grip record my songs live tho i know you see my face when it drops i hope i keep making albums non stop my revolution is my solicitor no visits i dont want visitor's who cant bang with it keep my heart stored ice cold box hit the loop station amplife my beatbox while il begin to detox now its socks off with them the kicks off with my girlfriend rocks off roxy like she likes its foxy always been a metalhead raphead truth be told i know the type of words that will move your feet to the sound of the beats il improve my walk because i walk these streets i being my heat like i hotboxed car smoked out in the car seat now your seeing stars chick il kick it and lick it like im sucking on tits rude mouth rapper im not saying sorry for the all the bars the slammed into your body like a homegrown shottie she nibbles on my ear wishpers secrets desire is my best kept secret i dont need to repeate this in fact would you like a recent repite prick sit down and get down so low crunk is funk dont need to sound dope i hook you in with the rope punch your teeth out ya with my fist crack ya skull with my barowtone voice il blow you away like dust like you have a choice so if you dont get down with my rhythm or sound or songs il enject your critisium chumps living like gas grilling oil drilling to all the pipes have run dry ive got my own flavour my own natural high why oh why do cristians stair at the sky preying to god while hes out of office they have to leave message on the voicemail mutate into a leopard and grow a tail so you can follow my trail