Sunset Saturday

Ding-dong! It's the lyrical King Kong Who goes in on every song without Rich Homie Quan I 'flex' with only lyrics, got MCs sent to clinics My name is no gimmick, this rhyme is pyrrhic When the words connect and the rhymes inject I deflect the wack when I receive direct Attention, I increase the tension When they step in my dimension without exemption When I rhyme, it's beyond comprehension MCs better seek divine intervention Cause the lyrical level I'm at is Mt. Everest My rhymes is devilish, I bless the globe with pestilence Fantastic like the Four, I never snore I got more rhymes in store for a lyrical war-- Fare, better beware when you spit hot air Cause I swear, I'll put your ass in a wheelchair Surrender when you enter my center I'm the rhyme inventor, eat MCs like November Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine Can't escape the lines I design and refine To it's natural, it's factual that your flow is laughable Mines is the classical, the Actual Proof that I'm soon to be Hotter than July With the temperatures high like 105 Degrees, I sting like killer bees when I crush MCs My flow is a dark disease Fear the expertise, make you fall to your knees Me and the mic go together like Mac & Cheese