Come Back

[Intro] What you're about to witness Is a near life experience [Hook x2] Everybody knows they need me to come back Rock shows, fuck hoes and keep it on track Indepedent right now, so keep your contracts Motherfuckers! [Verse 1] From the Iowa fields all the way out to south beach They lovin' the kid with the burningfull mouthpiece Spittin' out these flows, cause without me These motherfuckers are slippin' like standing on grease I got my feet firm on the ground Just waitin' to bring the flame, and baby I burn em down Takin' your lady, makin' her crazy, bend over and turn around Hit it and pass it on to my homies, can turn it out That's what's up with that midwest melodic flow That you know was inspired by Bone Thugs for sure Let em know, we ain't fuckin' around Country boy let me know when you're comin' to town I'm back like the opposite of front is Here to do the underground justice Get up off my nuts kid Gone so long that you almost forgot me But I'm back up in the cut, like a fucking autopsy [Hook] [Verse 2] Don't even had to hear, cause I rip it into shreds Underground motherfucker, representin' till I'm dead Professional against you little messengers of death My wrecking crews attestin' to the fact that I'm the best I ain't got to rep recruit to let you know, that it's on fucker Your dads got a uglier son than Tom Tucker Leave your little homos and cock suckers Extinct like Dodo's from a 44 tuckers No gangster, but I do know crazy People that will buck you, on some fuck you pay me Leave you leaking brain gravy and maybe Lookin' like your forehead just gave birth to a baby Raw talkin' rockin' and non stopin' Sock ‘em in the head till the skeleton softens Hit em with the blade till his arms fall off him Choppin' so the body can fit in the small coffin [Hook] [Verse 3] The musical gift that I got from my popa Got me popping on the scene as a rhyme talker Might stalk you, you fucking with a crime author Taking over, horrorcore is my genre I'm the king and you know it if you heard me I’m worthy of the crown from my dirty Sound now that you down with the misson We gon' stand here firm, no leaving opposition We deserve much better than we got, heading for the top If they in the bulidin’ we behead ‘em with the chops Sever in their top, with a sharp machete till they flop Then we cook em up, steady in the kettle or a pot All my teammates know that they're fuckin' with the straight boss Starving rappers till they're skinnier than Kate Moss Weight loss from the fact that they came soft Had to come back cause the game fell way off [Hook]