It's easy, sis— you feel this sick nasty beat, feel it real deep like some wild fire heat— The rhymes come at you like motherfuckin' magic, shit's instant, mystic, capricious minstrels done did it, wicked shit in in your thinkstick— Honk honk, It's G, double E, and all the fuck else . . .

Now I'm gonna throw this hot potato to my Glassis, drop that motherfucker with your bad self.

[ oOOOOOOOO KILL EM ]