I'm fittin to start kickin' lyrical styles  That will have you and you patnas' trippin' out  From the way that i be kickin 'em  Spiritual lyrics that will have you thinking about  Tha pimpin' child, drinkin' and livin' wild  Tell me, "was it worth it child?"  Where you from? Northern Cal, West Coast, from the yay  You know patna' up in Frisco  Next to San Jose  We call it tha dirty bay, sucka free golden state  Oh in the suburbs  Next to Donald Trump?  Naw I can't relate  I'm from the killin' state, playa hate if you wanna  On me tha Don, Miss Shila & E-Doggie Montana  Under boss from Nicaragua  12 years in that game, still maintain  A reputation to give rappers nightmares like Dana Dane, "Oh Mang"  Is what thay scream when i tough the mic  Cuz my style is so cold,   I'm know to leave MC's wit frost bite  So, don't get bitten,  Lyrics that I've written is know to swallow up MC's like cornbread & chittlans.  (BURP!)    12 years on this mic still, droppin' rhyme skillz, reachin' hustlers & G's  Gangstas, and em' playas, purpatraders  That need G-O-D    I'm back to kill tha 2nd verse  Like these rappers kids I left  Layin wit mics up in the Platinum Hearse  Don't be trippin' when I am rippin Micraphones  The Boney Bone is giving all praises to Jevoah on tha throne  That's why, I don't rap for chips or you  I rhyme  for the Father, son, the Holy Ghost and em' gangstas too  I preach the word wherever there's a need  To tha pimp, drug addict, prostitute, and convicts smokin' weed  Beliave in ya heart,   The Lord Jesus Christ is tha son of God  And that he rose from the grave on the 3rd day  And you can be saved from, Fire and Brimstone, PAin Gnashing of the teeth  Tha lake of Fire  Swimming in the belly of the beast  All you addictions, snorting blow, drinkin', and smokin' reef  Poppin' pills on tha daily  Just to make it through that hectic week  If he did it for me  He can do it for you too  If he did it for Paul and Mary Magdalene tha prostitute  Then he can do it for thugs too  So I'm a pop my collar, and halla  Tha Father blessed me wit Dollars and Rap Scholars  That is hotter than burning lava    12 years on this mic still, droppin' rhyme skillz, reachin' hustlers & G's  Gangstas, and em' playas, purpatraders  That need G-O-D    I swallow MC's down my esophagus  Every lyric I spit is phat like a hippopotamus  For instance I burn MC's like incense  Wit a style that's deadlier than O.J. Simpson  You wanna battle  Then you better think twice  Cuz I'm know to leave MC's careers extinct  Like Vanilla Ice, Stetsonsonic, Young MC,   But not "T" still be rhyming in 2003 4,5,6 & 7  Show up to a showdown with a mic as my only weapon  Ahhh, Oh, I'm on point like Ron Harper  Rappers couldn't fade me even if they where a barber  Wit' a pair of clippers or scissors  It don't matter   You one hitter quitters & jealous cuz I'm makin 'em chippers  Oh wee, commin' outa killa-call and like pac said  "We wear them chucks not tha balley's"    12 years on this mic still, droppin' rhyme skillz, reachin' hustlers & G's  Gangstas, and em' playas, purpatraders  That need G-O-D    these lyrics are submitted by FF5 Fan