Fron Tha Ground Metaphors You Can Scrape Finese Below The Turf For What Its Worth My Style's Been Developed In The Core Of Tha Earth

They Exhale, Its Satanic, They Inhale The Size Makes A Brotha Just, Panic When The Live Run The Rhymes With The Natural Ability To Run Through Yo Crew, 214, 213, 212,

In Other Words From Dallas, To L.A, To Tha Place Where Jake Stay, Everydays My Day So You Can Talk Your Shit On How You Wettin Mc's With Mad Bloodstains, But I Bet You Cant Stay In Tha Rain,

Im Lookin On Yo Brain With The Stain, Go Back And Reflect On My Endeavors But I Cant Complain,

Its Like The Ordeal Consistent With Tha Way I Make You Feel, The M's They Reveal But The Means I Conceal, And Those Who Try To Steal Get Decapitated, You Wana Snatch Mic's To Uptight Flow, That Shit Evaporated,

I Displays My Credentials Over Instrumentals, And My Potential, Increases At Tha Rate Thats Exponential, Is That Yo Mental Fuckin With My Thesis, Then The Trace Is Exact, Like Any Of Cencesus, I Rip Yo Shit To Pieces After Drainin Out Yo Fluid, My Vocab Is Fluent Yours Is Evedent To Being Truent,

I Know You Wana Make Moves, But Son U Best To Take A Second Look, Before My Knife Takes You Up.



Cuz Everybody's Rappin, And Only Few Can Flow, So Why The Hell They Tryin To Deal With Live I Dont Kno, Ive Handeled True Mc's On The Block Or At The Show, So If You Come To Roll Then Keep It On The Low, Cuz Yo,

I Got The Hand Splittin Self Written Unbitten Style That Leaves The Competition Runnin Scared And Shittin In They Pants, You Best To Set It Off Like They Is No Second Chance.

Once Im Open, All Your Doin Is Hopin That Tha Live Will Put Tha Mic Down, But Son Dont Try To Snatch It After, The Laughter Wont Ceace, From The Comparison I Dare You Son, Step Around And Poof When Im On, The Microphone Magician Says Poof! Ya Gone With The Wind,

Theres No Trace Of The Friends Because You Dont Know The Begin Ends Or Where The End Begins, But You See, Thats The Diffrence Who Gets Sold, I Get Paid Like I Told Like I Play If Ya Gonna Make Me Rain On Yo Parade, You Belong In Special Ed, If Ya Think You Got It Made, J Live With The Mic Is Like A Chef With The Blade, Cuz Suckas Get Sliced And Sauteed, Thought Yo Shit Was Fly But The Flight Was Delayed, Because



Everybody's Rappin, And Only Few Can Flow, So Why The Hell They Tryin To Deal With Live I Dont Kno, Ive Handeled True Mc's On The Block Or At The Show, So If You Come To Roll Then Keep It On The Low, Yes,

Everybody's Rappin, And Only Few Can Flow, So Why The Hell They Tryin To Deal With Live I Dont Kno, Ive Handeled True Mc's On The Block Or At The Show, So If You Come To Roll Then Keep It On The Low, Cuz Yo,

I Take The Brain Matter Of Pretenders Through My Mental Blender, And Then Return To Send Them, My Pen Dont Pretend To Offend, I Intend To Render Mc's Hangin Loose, Like A Fender Bender,

I Recommend, Regardless Of Yo Gender, That You, Stop Fuckin With J Live Fron Yo Agenda, And Remember, That Whoever Lends A Helpin Hand To Defend Ya Will Get Burnt To A Cinder, As I End The Rein Of Whack Mc's With The Suicidal Sentences, Renderin Me Sick With The Thoughts With Reminisining, But Then I Return To Reality Metaphorically Murdurin Mc's When They Battle Me, You Cant Battle Me, Im Not Yor Average Day, Slipin Up Through The Grass, I Surpass You Surpin As I Had Your Class, You Can Consider Me Class As I Wax That Ass As I Told You, That You Best Believe I Gets The Last Laugh.