Beast Ballad-Vakill

Ey I swear there's nobody in the industry f**kin with Chicago rap niggas Believe me I give it to you niggas if you want it This for you, Va What up, P I'm the grimiest ni**a With the weapon I'm smackin ya A Legend like Acura Plus I'm ryhmin with vigor With a better work ethic they say I mighta been Jigga There's no regrets, the flow is wet, my ni**a, cry me a river Exceptional vernacular, weapons spectacular And I'm never satisfied, somebody grab me a Snicker Named J-U-ICE like the diamonds that glitter When rhymin in a blizzard, seein me's like tryina get a lining with scissors Plus I'm throwin back a fifth of that Dom, my ni**a, it's fryin my liver Supplyin the piff and? infinite I don't even gotta try to get ignorant Like Theo and Vanessa dad I can deliver it Plus I do it just to brag, I am a intricate rhymin wizard Intravenous d**e up in every rhyme and I'm spittin it It's like I'm puttin coke in every line and you sniffin it Plus I carry a nine, Terry Shine, I'm rippin it I am not here to spit metaphors or create dances I am a can of whoop-a** ready to open Willin and hopin you would provoke him Try to insult me, I will punch you in yo face until my fists start smokin Till my hands start soakin in the blood from the wounds that was open From the sh*t you was talkin out of motion I'm emotionless, I beat you to a Pulp for yo Fictional Some old John Travolta sh*t, hocus pocus, b**ch It's the magic show, spooks disappear down the rabbit hole LJ guerilla warfare, my sh*t's tactical I hold grudges,?, do not touch it F**k with, walk away from me, man, say "F**k it" You don't want it, get stomped by the Brown Hornets Vakill, Crooked I and J, we all on it Keep your friends close, your enemies closer F**k that, kill your enemies, yo, this ain't Oprah We gon' ride Look I don't give a f**k, my motto is live it up Keep your glass half full, see mines, I fill up You want war, please give it up, the gig is up I'm sick enough to penetrate? Yes it's Brooklyn's crooked minister Spit conscious sh*t, then push some kush when I finish up I administer the sickest of scripts since That Indian that wrote the script to the Sixth Sense You lames spittin should quit and go back to 'caine, b**ches Is you insane, you must? simpin Got your blood on my blade drippin, I ain't kiddin I pierce your chest like a?, you lay stiffen Dog, I stay trippin, you know I was playin, pimpin I end his life cause this wasn't in G and Kane's vision Yeah I'm game uptown for that same mission Aim-clickin, bang-spittin, flame sick as Twain's diction Yeah, even though I'm holdin hot burners This killer is colder than hyperthermia A single round spin'll sit you down like a hernia Me and Rihanna, we got a seperate definition for 'disturbia' I'm mentaly disturbed, ni**a, I murder ya That prrrat put a peephole in your flesh A keyhole in your chest Then I open up your torso Just like a door, so Death can walk in Negro, I'm depressed, please know I'm a mess Send you right upstairs Gun treat you like them Billie Jean sidewalks, the way they light up squares Yeah, kill kickdrums, tie up snares Wanna describe my flow in one word? Try 'unfair' Tireless nights I spit fire into wireless mics Till I expired its life, until my life expired I'm fly as a kite And I'm firin iron that'll turn any Iron Mike into Brian McKnight Mmmwwaaa, good night I'm hate's Cupid on a poison-tipped arrow assignment Strapped to the? My barrel alignments never minded enough exposin bone-marrow confinement Non-rhymers' subsconcious is vicious Only p**sy gettin past these bars is conjugal visits Ganja exquisit, when inhaled conjure a vision Explicit as point blank with a rocket launcher? My physic's the Lord's best kept secret, swept under His rug Cracked the earth with a thunderous tug I work wonders with slugs, I'm a blunder with blood It will spill until the angels come and plunge in the flood? This that new Chi, necks frosty, bars is Windex-glossy Next costly mistake I'm squeezin Tecs? Any ni**a that plans to ex-off me Ain't got two snowballs chances on a anatomically correct Frosty You ain't heard no bars that's inhuman and wild Mushroomin a cloud till all you b**ches consumed in a pile God and Satan reunion is now And if Obama gets shot there'll be more blood in crackers than f**kin communion allows Can't sh*t breathin dishonour these verses Only cracks you'll find in my arm is 2 for 5's if the f**kin economy worsens