His names Tom right?,
They expect me to leave him dyin', right?
When I spit these rhymes and I'm fly and tight.
I'm high, I might,
Just get spastic with this keyboard,
Looking at the girl with you, I can tell that she bored.
The guy rhymed career twice and thinks he's nice,
Work out the bugs on your mic, delouse your lice
No beats for these bars but I'm Cold as Ice
Life is a card game, I prefer to roll the dice.
Your skill be fictional, Jesus Christ
Taking shots at religion too, with my evil mic
You're the favorite of these people? Heh, right
You get as much hype as a guy with a deick
Check your lyrics son, cause it ain't nothing
If I cared enough to make it, my shit is what the DJ's would be bumpin'