RZA
Mr. Perfect
Uh, uh, yo. After I bomb a test I hop up and button up my bomber Jets, a college kid with knowledge that can get Obama stretched. I’m well connected, when shit get to shakin’ I call cuz. He get to erasing, let him etch-a-sketch it n***a. My methods n***a, With a pen, gotta be a sin, repenting for verses I’m submitting. Like, “Holy Father, just trying to dip my wrist in holy water.” With rocks that’s gigantic, look like the shit that stopped titanic. Iceberg like my brother name. Another lame got beside himself so gang left with another chain. This game don’t come with no tutorials or how-tos. Shit ain’t even childproof, loud tools make bowels move. I seen it in action, these n***as just rapping. Atlanta Bravest name a team that can compete with my faction, captain. Capping’s your specialty, big neeft brought that thing with him to make sure n***as play fair, call it a referee. Gettin to next me like getting next to the Pope. I’m Southside’s hope with a flow that hit harder than dope. That’s uncut, cut up with that cutter what I told my brother. Cut off your lights, cut to the chase and cut the check sucker. Cross one of mine, they bound to cut your neck sucker. So, I advise that you act wise or clutch a tec sucker. And I done seen too many legends that this game done killed, so I’m pacing like Jermaine O’Neal. Y’all don’t hear me though

(Sample playing)

J-I-G-G-S, roster like GS. Your shorty simple, easy like a G-E-D test. Me stressed? no way Jose, hoes say Olay. Go play with those funny guys, crack your egg and fry it sunny side. You run and hide, me, I’m drunk with pride. Divide the pie with bloody knives, ride or die until the ocean dry. Ain’t taking off unless my folks can fly. You know the slogan all for one, can’t ball for all, won’t ball for none n***a. Can’t show me one n***a, that could compete or compare. His diva cheaper, peep her feet and her hair. My girl wig QP of reefer, that’s rare. Plus installment, that’s a G up. Tryin got keep up will have you blowing re-up boy. I’m in Atlanta with my feet up boy. Wanna do business? Sendin henchmen, ain’t no meetups boy. They built the heat up from the feet up boy. So play it cooler than The Fonz. My word law, a get you neutered with a yawn. Okay. Say