I walk the streets with an ear for fresh, beats and old school scratches,
hittin' back and forth like tennis maches.
Pandering tracks with sacks of my phat lyric attacks, throat dry eat a manderin, meandering
back to TrapDoor for more juice or, throw back a black pearl cider with TK the producer.
Catchin SOS's, rap fans are getting restless.
that's why I raise the bar like bench presses.
blow kisses that'll blush your misses, crowd hush, shit smelling rappers get flushed like dead fishes.
White girls and sistas
act like kids on christmas,
They wanna sit on my lap and state their wishes.
you bitches are amateur
BigMax pull microphone out the stone like excalibur,
Smash melons like galliger.
Catch me eating reuben sandwich on rye with JD Sallinger.
The chosen,
my rhymes are fresh and never frozen,
put in work
my pen prolific like Charley Rosen.
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