The Master

Uh-huh Diabolic Will show you how to do this Game's of rap now Triple O, Brookyln Ac now Check it I'm not at all a baller, I'm a soldier for bread Yeah I pop bottles with bar fights over ya head Bitch you gave good brain, but I'm over ya head Kind of like when I rhyme, I'm over ya head Forced to dumb it down, so y'all know what I said But I'm over the game, it's game over instead What I've learned lately, made me stir I learned Nina's a dead president's first lady Left my nerves shaky, provoking violence On every soldier who broke the code of silence You need to open your eyes, see the ultraviolet Before I open 'em for you and slash both your eyelids Broke and wildling, raw gram bagging Two chicks jumped on my dick like it's the bandwagon So busy braggin' 'bout the rocks you picked off Put a gun in your waist and almost shot your dick off So pay attention to what I say and mention I'm trying to own New York down to the mayor's pension Can taste the tension, streets is talkin' And the beast is hawkin', on every read Lookin' for an excuse to call reinforcements So proceed with caution, or see a coffin I'll read your fortune, to see the future Squeeze a ruga D's and troopers, the first of three targets To get set up ??, for first degree charges Any rapper you put verses me garbage I'd rather serve a demon, burn the weed harvest You cannot be hood, you Hollywood pussy Well Bolic just want that Hollywood pussy I could rap for weeks, y'all just rappin' weak You ain't have the streets, you had 'em fast asleep Blastin' heat, knives slash and butcher Cause y'all punk bitches like Ashton Kutcher Diabolic, man with the shortest fuse Defeats out my pipe's range Money talks, it speaks and I listen And life's the bitch with bare feet in my kitchen Screamin' and bitchin' so I'm plottin' for wealth Gettin' bars off my chest like I'm spottin' myself Diabolic, Triple O, Brooklyn Academy Got cats scared to battle me Packing jams with capacity Game over