Killswitch

[Intro] Uh uh uh... Man, how may times have I had to make this clear? I'm 100% percent serious about this craft, dude So now, I think it's about time that I hit that killswitch [Verse 1] Well, ain’t I a sight for sore eyes, a sound for sore ears as well? A veteran returned to take what he’s earned, ready to cause havoc and been waitin’ to raise hell? Hell, get a cane – I’mma raise that, competition’s fate written – can’t erase that No point to run, ‘cuz by the moment I’m done, there won’t be any dirt to trace back I was considered as one of the ones who couldn't spark it up like lighter fluid A couple of songs and 10 years deep and now most say that I can do it And I can only be honest; you can never ever slam with such honors If you still rappin' about ladies and drugs while you're still hooked on phonics My desire is the only fire I need, I need no one for the Venus Any other rumors heard are now dead, I’m a Romulus to the beat’s Remus And if you don’t like it, go ahead and take the Amber Cole approach and suck my… Oh wait – I’m sorry, I started being facetious If work was physical weight, I'd stack pounds like the rich in the UK Kill beats like gangsters do people with a fully loaded deuce deuce tré So who's to say that K-Will go soft like a chocolate soufflé? I apologize, but a word from the wise; I'mma never fall off - toupee [Hook] I’m sorry for those that waited, but some madness got created And I know some people hate it, but I hit that killswitch You can argue and debate it, but your say is unrelated To the ruckus and the damage caused when I will spill this Don’t make me, don’t make me, don’t make me do it Oh wait, it’s way too late, don’t seal your fate and then refuse it All your hate is turning into something worse than karma now And when I fire right back at you, it’s gonna be like (hand clap) [Verse 2] I will not stop ‘til I’m in the chop shop All you suckas drop slop with the words you got taught – I’m way better I cop squats on a rhythm, top spot my position Not hot when you spitting, Foxtrot – grade letter If jot blots turn into the bawk bawk on the beats of wrought snot You might have forgot thought My goal might be far-off but we hardly got shots So call me a crockpot – I won’t worry over something that I’m not You can go ahead and say you detest me But there is a word of warning that I behest thee And I request thee that you depress the Pessimism and the hate you got – you misguessed me And the testes needed to re-test me Is a thing you’ll never get, so respect me You claimin’ that I’m not upon your level? Course not! I’m drowning in EXP! *Tech N9ne grunt* You can grab everything that you got to put it up against me But what is that going to change? Brother, I am at my pinnacle – I hate to be so cynical But any effort put to make a move is in vain Ain’t no fruits to gain in any of this Retaliation is futile, so don’t even resist You pulled the pin and let the lever go And I have a short fuse – so don’t even be pissed Now you got something to deal with, huh? Are you gonna front when time is realest, huh? I’m pretty sure I know the answer – call me Master P Because all I ever do is make ‘em all say, “Uhhh,” “Na-na na-na” Don’t you ever try to top the king of lexicon, trick I hate to do it, but your hate went on without a hitch Now I gotta go and flip that killswitch – R.I.P [Hook x2]