The flow is toe in, precision as an afro trim
All big letters but it isn't no acronym
Smack the thin grin off a chin for crack-smoking
DDT the first bar, leave this track backbroken
Chrome grown men doing business with Anglo-Sax and them
Lacking swing but that banjo's so relaxing
As the wax spin, hacking axes in the wind
Pretend it's just a pen, see if you can pencil 'em in
Tense, mention men of honor fenced in
Census is tens, the wheels fall off then it's the end
Don't get keelhauled in
Villain always been, feel real, genuine ballskin
Not to call the whole crowd out
It's just a few chumps, and you know who you are like a shoutout
Place 'em in your loud mouth and taste 'em like a pastry
Waste of space face hastily, bow out gracefully
Disappear, reappear, and disappear again
Villain not his hair, he's no Afro-American
If that's the case, he'd be a bald-headed African
Taking all the credit and jetted, astral traveling
Turn a man into a mannequin for AFLAC'n
And being tough actin' Tinactin bluff jacking
He wears a mask so when he dogs his face
Each and every race could absorb the bass
In the place to be, don't believe the hyperbole
It's like a murder spree, get sniped verbally
Or beat in the head with lead pipe languages
For street cred, leave him for dead in anguishness
The slang suggest it was the guy in the glasses
Who came to help the people with they minds in they asses
You set trip and get a grip like Spalding
These walls is thin, feel genuine ballskin
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