Killing Spree

[Defari] A different caliber of MC This track is filthy, word to O.J., you make me feel guilty Of first degree soundbwoy murder Unlike anything out of L.A. you ever heard of Word up, you play with fire, you'll get burned up Best believe that my shit sound the best, when it's turned up Loud, mashin down the block suburban style Eighteen speakers plus kit chromed out Yo, you think that you fuckin pro? On the low the other night I caught your wack-ass stage show Oh.. boy, you're just a bore But you tell everybody that you're like Busta And you got "Rhymes Galore" Mmm mmm mmm, ain't that somethin? Got the nerve to call yourself an MC, man you be frontin I don't apologize, oh yeah, and uh Go back to school, learn some concepts and grammar Of yourself, get a hold Next time you on stage, use Primatine for some breath control (Ha ha ha) But now don't let asthma be the excuse You was definitely doper, when no one knew you [Hook 2X: Defari] I'm on a killing spree, murder soundbwoy constantly Constantly murder wack MC I'm on a killing spree, skill level at maximum Dem pussy-clat bwoy nah wanna see me [Defari] You was stone cold lyin by the full wack rhyme writin If I had some gasoline I'd ignite it, with my lighter.. .. BOOM! You combust, cause you disgust me Wacker than them flat-ass crackers on Three's Company You walk around, mad cause no one's feelin you Mad at me, cause all your peoples they know my lyrics too They sing along cause my song bumps On the mix tapes that YOU made, yet and still you try to playa hate (What?) You're featherweight, weaker than a paper plate Lyrically, when compared to me, I know your style is fake Fraud, manufactures, cheaper than Hyundai Now you're hardcore you probably used to be a true nerd guy Make up your mind guy, now you're the Mr. Get High guy If you ever step to me you'll think French because you're fuckin fried In the mix of my verbal assault fightin sticks You shouldn't gamble cause round for round you can't handle this [Hook] [Defari] Cat was out of pocket, got socked in his jaw Fell to the floor, that's all she wrote But I wrote rhymes, that burn every time On mad mix shows I got wreck off the mind But what's in a rhyme, if it don't sound tight? You ask me if a lot of rappers are wack man you DAMN right Who's to say these brothers from L.A Will take charge like DeBarge and shine, in a special way? I say okay, let's get paid Let's put this money on Putnam and sip bombays with dis lemonade Use, Gatorade to refuel Electrolytes after I ignite this mic too Yo what's my name? Defari Herut By the way since you been askin all these questions Who the hell are you? I seen your kind before, no lie A devil spy, disguised as an ambassador You can't fool the Divine Sun Rule Word to blue magic - step right up - and see the Likwit Crew Hurry hurry, get your tickets, stand in line After the show it's at the Towers on Sunset and Vine Me and my niggas at the bar sippin Henny Got your bitch open all night, as if her name was Denny's [Hook] - 2X