Texty: Fluent. Underground Famous. Guarantee.

You get tried like a 30-day no gun clap money back sale of fees
I pay no interest on you weak MCs
So please choose wisely in the words you write for fame
Because I lack a wide frame but throw a change up like Sugar Shane
Remain I am my own Lord and master
Conjunction junction I function and rupture
Then suddenly pressure point on joint puncture
Then lunge ya 8 feet under
And the extra two feet is for my two feet
Stompin you down into the ground when you wasn't complete
Compete?
I can smell your retreat through the grapevine
Stinkin up the rhyme line on Friday Night Primetime
My mind is all mine
You cannot isolate
When surrounded by emcees they all hyperventilate
In their failed attempts to penetrate my music shakes and devastates
Oceans from lakes
I never fall short of great
Fire can incinerate
Ice can freeze
My rhymes are the only guarantee that you can get for free
And all you have to do is buy a cheap CD and hear me
Clearheaded like I don't smoke weed

[Hook: x2]
The only guarantee you get for free is me
So please don't download this CD is ain't no weak LP
So if you wanna bang out on some MP3's
You can get banged out like bumbaclots down on they knees

Promotional marketing doesn't mean ya sparkin things
Like words or ideas from a listener economy
Mahogany monogamy
The only thing stopping me
From the responsibilities that come with fathering
Fondly check monopolies inside out pockets anonymous
Empty?em out before the drama hits
My notebooks a militia
Non-fictional depictions
A description of missions
Malicious convictions
I retract statements that are offensive
Like you contract gonorrhea in your home girl's basement
Face it I can play you adjacent to the pavement
Like a knot my hand rollin' eleven 7's in amazement
Rebel devils bevel the fertile settlements
Enemy spies trade ties just to get a hint
But in the end is it all relative or irrelevant
You will never know until you embrace all elements

[Hook x2]

In an inscent filled room I gloom past horror stories
Fast in my worries
To a biased jury
Never carry the fury of the ancients
Premordal devastation premature evacuation
Askin the wise men who told in disguise
Underneath the shroud of despise and violence
My eyelids cry for the pain of the witnesses
Who fell victim to the hideousness of their own testament
Eclectic is as eclectic does
Heretics say what and get batted back down to they rug
Some shrug or hold a grudge
I never knew much but I grew up
And learned about a loyal man's trust
I wooed and crushed to earn a shorty's love
But once I got it it rotted
Yo got it all knotted up
Fuck that shit so what never really gave a fuck
Still not givin all I got but always comin' up
Always never givin a fuck
Always comin up

[Hook x2]

That's all she wrote