Show me who you know really flowsShow me who you know is really coldShow me who you think is really in my zoneAnd I bet he's someone in the circle that I knowShow me someone that you think is spitting venomI'll take his freedom in a sentence like a judgeShow me something that I don't knowBefore it's too late, I came to wrap the whole game upMCs, I should punch you in your mouthsYou ain't from the streets, you spit shit on funky houseEuropean dance mixed into tranceCan't feel safe with all the jewellery on your armsI bet you no-one even knew you in your manorBefore you got a deal spitting swag barsI put my manor on the mapAnd I've been running these streets for my young teens carving out a pathForget modest, I've been modest too longI buried you in freestyles, bodied you in songsCall me Devs, call me Jim Laden, call me KongBeating on my chest, now it's time to get it onShow me someone that you think I should be weary ofI'll grab his cranium and tear it offTo fill it full of thoughts, that'll make him think twice'Bout stepping 'round the mic when I'm present, unfair or notI see pop stars posing like rap starsYou ain't urban acts that's just what the facts areIn your videos posing in your flash carsYou don't even own, walk the street aloneAnd find you get moved to quickerThe mice inside of a pythons homeI guess I'm one of the few true spittersThe rest can't cut it, so slice 'em to the boneSystem overload, is too lateI'm cracking up, smacking up, MCs who never run the roadNever bought an ounce of anything apart from goldYou ain't got no credibility, you bastards knowI've been a force within the undergroundSince nights that I was writing at my mother's houseI've never been no type but big manJust a little sick screaming out, fuck 'em nowWho the fuck told you it was fire you were spraying?You know who you are, so do I, so what you saying?Nothing cause your management would tell you not to speakMine would tell me burn 'em and then fight 'em in the streetCash hungry vermin, I deprive 'em of their sleepScare 'em like a nightmare, the way I write the beatAin't a fan of vegetables, it ain't about the peasAs long as I'm the best within my field then I'm at easeUnderground, overground, Dev's might mow you downIn a vehicle that was stolen at your mother's houseMy father ain't SamuelBut the way that I kill all these MCs, I feel like the summer SamShow me who you know really flowsI blow him back like I was rolling with a gun in handAll I know is that there's not that many prosSo when I'm around I have to keep it really cold
