Nowhere near simple

Verse 1 I hit the cherry harder, I’m very tard of every part of my rhyme’s Fine like Sherry Carter I have you no adversaries smarter I’m not about the Glocks, but dress dapper, lyrics will just tap ya Knock yo’ best rapper out the box I bruise and batter, crews that scatter, that used to chatter To aprove to the fools who's phatter I win a course in the friend of yours, she’s in a cross Leave ’em bloody like pads in your drawers for menopause I’m dusting niggers, urgently need emergency surgery Every word will leave third degree burns from combustion When the P show, never get on before or after he flow Amigo you know my estilo from recking Stretch & Bobbito Your shit is wack and fertile, if your friend laugh You need to skin grab, then chew him in half, just like a snapping turtle Put your crew to rest, lyrics go through your vest, that you the best So for you to test, you must be on Buddha cess Chorus I’m nowhere near simple (What?) My mental (Cut) into (What?) Niggas like a Ginsu Verse 2 From the sound of it, I’m coming from the Boogie Down of shit Where niggas are bound to flip, when you **** counterfeit Hustling packing steel, acting ill, attack and kill A person to snatch their bills, if they ain’t got the rapping skills I knock hotties, rock block parties, where people carry Glock shotties To drop bodies, when niggas got rowdy Better renew your verse, your crew is the worst Claiming what they can do to Perce and who’s the first, what Flow is in thoughts perfect, I drop the hype, after I rock tonight Watch the mic short circuit Your whole life ya never heard a nigga more trifle A flow nicer than me in no cipher I’m like a wide screen, showing drama word to mama When I rhyme I cause more trauma then a homicide scene Forget cable, some kid ate who, me? My shit fatal since the time I used to rhyme on hit tables Chorus I’m nowhere near simple (What?) My mental (Cut) into (What?) Niggas like a Ginsu Verse 3 I got my rhyme through the creeping on niggas sleeping And with a deacon to bless the souls of rappers I hit this weekend at the **** Let’s have a word, request the nurse Niggas can’t mess with Perce or possess the worst shit ever heard Résumé, say I’m one of the best today Want to display I suggest you play “Yes you may” The phat nigga, flowing on the tracks, slicker That rip the shit that make you rewind back quicker quote a rap to ya Percee P wanted for first degree Murder since you heard a verse from me, check it Much props getting dough like corrupt cops and drug spots Lyrics, let of buck shots in your mug hops Keeps it real, techniques are ill, deep and skilled Rappers reach for steel or wheels when they peep the grill Chorus I’m nowhere near simple (What?) My mental (Cut) into (What?) Niggas like a Ginsu