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From the start to the finish I'ma bark on contenders Wanna tarnish my image I can't promise forgiveness See I was never like this My mom's would never like this And y'all was never like us That's why y'all never liked us See I might take your style Flip it back, make it crack Sell a couple mil get some stacks Here you go now take it back I'm spittin lines of fire I'm in the line of fire Designer attire, makin me a sign of desire I just rhyme to inspire, your favorite line supplier I run through fan's signs and landmines the size of tires How many minds inquire, I got mines and acquired Enough props to make y'all resign and retire
Now hold on, and just stomp stomp Get your hands off me Now hold on, and just stomp stomp Get your hands off me
This is hot as it gets, your shit's not as intense My flow got 'em convinced, they ain't got at 'em since My back's against the wall So if I turn and flee and run from what's in front of me That won't make no sense at all This for my dons and divas, haters and non-believers They just try'na deceive us like Judas dishonored Jesus Why you try'na critique this, don't take kindness for weakness Leave you behind the speakers, body minus some pieces You got records to sell, I got records to break You will never excel against me measure the rate
I got too much at stake I just follow my fate Annihilate and dominate and I ain't even try'na wait
While you hang out, I bang out Make moves like shots rang out Wanna know, what my slang 'bout They be like, "Shut your damn mouth" Your chances are slim, makin' advances on Jin While you, shootin' the breeze, I'm dancin' with the wind This is not your, ordinary My style, sort of varies Slaughter you, then your crew Cause you know, the more the merry You already know the outcome, so how come you doubt son ("I'm goin' out by any means necessary" - [Malcolm]) Hip-hop without Jin is like, shootouts without guns Churches without nuns, bankers without funds Smokin' without lungs, cities without slums My fans force me, get your fuckin' hands off me
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