I'd like to thank ya'll
For this opportunity to drop the jewellery
And get this shit poppin' musically
Feels like I'm locked in hells gate and god's my cell-mate
Sayin' plot this jail-break, pop the cops who tailgate
You sealed your fate prying inside my business
To find a mind as scientific as Mayan hieroglyphics
As god's my witness, I'll spit viral sickness
Like bible scripted black plague in the last day's final minutes
On a primal vicious grind, till my vinyl shipments climb
Through the great vine and be defined as vintage wine
Sky's the limit? Fine, I'm in your atmosphere
To racketeer the sky and to fall it on your rap career
And I ain't stackin' near the millions I'm worth
Coz' sayin' somethin' ill in a verse and havin' skills are a curse
But still, I got a feelin' that this villain at work'll be
More chillin' than still born children at birth
I'm the king; my underlings are building my church
And when your mom close her eyes to pray I'm stealing her purse
Now, god willing I become the illest on Earth
Where love is hate so I just pray your feelings get hurt
My life is tragic, so it's only right I write the madness
Like being psychopathic's my right of passage
And don't care what the price of gas is
I'll splash it on you while I'm lighting matches
And put out the flames with nitric acid
Spiteful bastard, I'm back with a vengeance
A fifth of Jack and a Mac-11 to capture the essence
I'm just an artist gettin' closer to the edge
So when I go over know I put my soul in what I said
For real, Bolic ain't focused on the bread
I had enough of that, so if you with me where the fuck you at?
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Fuck your gun fights, all I need is one mic and crowd-time
And I could outshine the sunlight on cloud nine
For now I'm climbin' uphill and grindin'
Till I chill reclining on a diamond studded silver lining
Feel this priming, but those sceptics don't get it
Most said I dig my own grave, I'm too poetic
Stressed like Po said, let's organise confusion
I'm just a microphone fiend, always high
Using the rush, intoxicated me and fortified the movement
And plus I get to slaughter guys all for my amusement
Drawn my conclusion, don't need a label budget
So I'm sayin' "fuck it", like I'm way above it, you can hate or love it
Raised in Suffolk, fighting like I'm Razor Ruddock
Without a pot to piss in; urinate in public
In the home of Rakim, Eric Sermon, R.A. The Rugged
Diabolic's dancing with the devil angel dusted
Bring the ruckus; let's rumble in the slums
So I can punch you in the ribs till there punchering your lungs
I'm just wondering, how the fuck you doubling your funds
By lieing about scratching off the numbers on the gun
Coz', the muthafuckas where I'm from feel inside
That even though Dilla died, hip-hop is still alive
And it will survive the fake thugs talkin' tough
When I click the nine to get a dial tone and call your bluff.
I'm just an artist gettin' closer to the edge
So when I go over know I put my soul in what I said
For real, Bolic ain't focused on the bread
I had enough of that, so if you with me where the fuck you at?
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Where the fuck you at? We right here
Where the fuck you at? We right here