This Guerrilla rap, right here, life in a box
You'se a batti bwoi, you be in the cypher with cops
Listen, I ain't gonna hold you, I'm liable to box
The words' a gun, the rhyme is an audible shot
And while you at it, maricon, say goodbye to your pops!
My hand speed move at 200 nautical knots

A horrible plot, but this is just a hobby to him
Like sippin' Grey Goose, smoking Bob Marley with him
You don't want war, you'll be counting bodies with him
In his house, John Gotti was just Godly to him ...read more