(Verse 1)
I'm droppin on every beat like when I was a baby. I'll never claim to be the next Slim Shady, but theoretically - I can get crazy. But let's keep it on the low, no one's needs to know about this anger I'm bout to show. Now you can feel my pain. My words instantly paint a picture in your brain. "I'm insane." Oh - everyone says that. "I run the game." Oh - they say that to? Well I can spit a hot verse to. I use ice cubes and fire, start to brew. They get the bustin well... I shoot to! I'm an artist - see the white lines I drew? Tryna take the mic from me is like tryna take the Hockey Mask from Jason. Don't underestimate me you have no idea whatchu facing. They tell me demolish the beat murder the verse. Everyone be advised, give Trump the alert

(Hook)
Gotta think out loud, if we don't say it now. It'll get stuck your mouth. Can't keep it on low, gotta let the anger show, let the truth be known. Gotta think out loud

(Verse 2)
Type my name on the search bar, can't find me, I'm not the Main-Stream. I'm stuck in a Deep-Web, Underground. But I'll make it step by step. No time to turn around. As I see the red light, see the stop sign, I hit gas harder. Launching fools in the air to see who fly farther. We already know who gonna go the farthest, who gon rap the hardest. TME. Handle - dismantle. Strike the match and a lit candle. For the rest of you R.I.P
Everyone keeps stabbing me. Hear the haters babbling. Too many opponents. I'm half human and machine. Made of many components. Sometimes I could be a cold blooded amphibian. (Mexican, Yaki, and part Sicilian) No one around almost killin a sibling. I control myself, wasn't raised a simpleton. Rapping I scored a simple 10 out of 10. Understand the words that I need to bend so the audience can comprehend. I don't even call my self a beat killa. Ima over killa. I kill the beat twice and realize it needs to be revived. Pull the lyrics out and chop the beat like it got circumcised

(Hook)
Gotta think out loud, if we don't say it now. It'll get stuck your mouth. Can't keep it on low, gotta let the anger show, let the truth be known. Gotta think out loud

(Verse 3)
Grab the knives and grab the tool. Hayden your fool. Thinking I can't rap? Bitch go back to school. You ain't got no reason to run yo mouth. You can't reach my level you midget mouse. (LOL, SOS) You're all text no action. If we ever meet up. I know you'll bring the whole faction. Analyze the mic as I rip it in half. It could've been you on my behalf. But you know what...I'm on the right path. You have no right in my path. Stay on your own lane