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[Verse 1] They call me nigger with an attitude A new-age wigger with an afro ‘cause my grandma black but cook Spanish food My people mixed like the Creoles of the Baton Rouge And I was born to be a hater thanks to my Germanic roots I leave ‘em battered, bruised. Beat up all these rapper dudes Y’all can call it track abuse. All you see is blacks and blues And I ain’t talking Mississippi Delta Mess around and get dealt with and put under sheets like inner city shelters I’ll house niggas if you fly [?] Watch it blow, make it rain blood all on y’all umbrellas The perfect storm. Word is bond. I’m a schiz-killa Murk booths with verbals. Rip it through the spit filter Son, I’m in my own lane—the fans love C I take you out of Penn State. Put you in the state pen Get you raped by inmates. You lames are Sandusky And I’m too grown for these games—y’all can’t touch me OWS cops came to handcuff me But with this wealth of knowledge, I ain’t claiming bankruptcy Son, we can box. I’ll leave your training camp bloody I’ll put you in a box in this native man’s country [Hook] Now you ain’t come here to grind out—so fall back ‘Cause you ain’t crack, but you know I’m gonna take it there Son, don’t act ‘cause you don’t wanna take it here T.O.S.—Terminate on Site Y’all came here for timeout—then sit down ‘Cause it’s going down and you know I’m gonna take it there Killa, you a clown and you don’t wanna take it there T.O.S.—Terminate on Site [Verse 2] Yo, the game’s puss for me—she always stay wet So I expose Dick like that Watergate mess I beat it up. Son, these words’ll orchestrate death Song straight murk ‘em. Orca whale—I slaughter they set If looks could kill, then of course I’m way fresh While you rookies looking ill in your Norman Bates dress A bunch of trannies with no drive And I’mma keep it moving while you stranded on the roadside I’mma start a movement like the fam named the Low Lives These Creative Juices is a floor—fuck a low tide Rain on this planet. God dammit, angels nosedive And make our [kampf?] drown and the sorrows of they souls cry Got ‘em laying stiff on this trip—death boat rides Take ‘em on the other side with [?] Here comes the reaper—I don’t need FEMA to cosign ‘Cause I got ‘em screaming like Katrina while they coastline Birth to underground, I got ‘em fiending for these dope rhymes And all you gon’ find is their femurs in a coal mine Bury my foes. You gon’ see me when it’s Showtime Not TV—live on 3D. You getting clotheslined Fuck Avatar, this ain’t that flick from ‘09 No Che Guevara, I’m Geronimo and a whole 9 So don’t mind when the native’s getting restless Last of the Po Rican. Put your legion on a death wish [Hook] Now you ain’t come here to grind out—so fall back ‘Cause you ain’t crack, but you know I’m gonna take it there Son, don’t act ‘cause you don’t wanna take it here T.O.S.—Terminate on Site Y’all came here for timeout—then sit down ‘Cause it’s going down and you know I’m gonna take it there Killa, you a clown and you don’t wanna take it there T.O.S.—Terminate on Site