Status

[Verse 1:] Intense experiments, provide intricate answers Why I attack weakness like hip cancer I sip lancers, to drink the pain away quicker My game stay sicker than all you gay trickers I spray niggas, like paint and eight illin For the killin' I pack clips that spit in the millions Fulfillin' ya needs, like 1-900 numbas Pretty when I talk shitty, now did he wonda... Am I the true or livin or clues are given Crews are gettin waxed like wood floors, and they be slippin Rippin up mics like ya whole [? ] is No reasonin for the treasonin, all the stress The bleedin of the flesh is imperial, for the Serial killer, illa than David Koresh Waitin the best I'm nocturnal, I get ya Like a sweat, I wetcha; and left you like a specta Just a trace of arsenic and no lace The coroner can't replace the holes in ya fuckin' face Chasin dreams like them kids from california I warn ya, I'm up on ya... [Hook: x2] I'm in the mood to make moves and gain status So let's see all emcees that be the baddest I'm in the mood to make cash without the rocks So let's see all real G's who don't stop [Verse 2:] Peace to my nigs, upon bids, I warn kids Of my addiction, to exterminate ya fiction Beherets inherits slugs, when the ash Bashed upon n fits the gods like the wrath of don Ya nervous, cause my word hits, you're in the cata... Tonic, my raps are pondered like percentas up inna So winna, follow the sinna, smoke beginnas The winna of ya discontent's where I meant to send ya The ends accumulate like kids in [? ] I drop a lot, like diuretics to rock or not, I embed it The subliminal from the criminal militia remove heads For the love, a jesus de christa The mista cop that got torched spans the ages In my third life, I blaze a lake, shame the sages You don't know me, I'm faceless, so take this And puff one; time for ya mind and find traces Of bodies, battered and bruised, so crews do The brew; bloodshed and carnage results so when I'm in the mood... [Hook x2] [Verse 3:] You got the mark of triple six, so I hit you quick My script'll rip, any shit that ya clip'll flip [?]that blaze,cut graze and hurt no-names Plain, insane, [? ] a Glock like kurt cobain [? ] Beneath the remains, I often see stains from games usin propane From puttin fire unda rappas asses... The masta passes; all herbs and nerds, I smash ya glasses Lethal intent, from [? ], been debted Buried from the flurries of hot lead, that was embedded In swine's noses, f*ck the days of wine and roses Used to be my man, but check the threat my nine poses My minds arose, I suppose it's just the pressure From hit squads, gunnin to get by, runnin ya shit's hard And the jungle of concrete, the Don peeps Weak dreams, and break 'em like pete [? ], that's my street scene Mad depression, got my dreads swarmin the concession spot Ya dead on 'em... now here's the warnin: [Hook x2]