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[Verse 1]
’Sup cats, it’s Proper
You can always come and find me
Straight spitting pure dope
Down your throat, it’s something slimy
Saying „BLIMEY!” as I fuck your mind with perfect rhyming timing
The autopsy shows the intestines were coated grimy
Soldiers signing treaties defeating the silver lining
Got a bowel tract infection, cause you’re talking out ya hiney
How many bones you got?
Not in your wallet, in your body
I’mma take ’em out of your skin
And you could call this my hobby
You roam the globe as a bitch
In this world of mortal men
Keep coming back to diss me
Then I beat your ass like „Here we go again!..”
Tie this cat’s shoes to his two back belt loops
So he can kick his own ass and maybe I won’t have to
Cause when I attack you I smack your top Incisor tooth
Out your mouth in a bad mood
Eating canned food a bit rude
I’ll leave you in the street completely nude
Watching me drive away like „Fuck you, dude!!”
The Hip-Hop lately is making me go crazy
These cats ain’t got fire, spitting nursury rhymes
And they can’t say shit when I’m breaking they spine
Fuck the competition, only recited three lines
I get upset by your disses that’s a courtesy lie
„…And hey man that verse sounded just like mine!”
Biting all my words catchin’ burglary fines
Acting like a little kid committed the 'perfect-est’ crime
Making random incisions like it’s some surgery blind
Blind folded I’m the coldest, leave you frozen in time
Man my flow is sublime, catching doses exploding
Like Shadow Moses’s mind, Metal Gear’s on the grind
Gold mine for a mind, that’s always being mined yeah you know I provide
Flows to those does that know, I’m buck wild, punk child, drunk smile
Killing emcee’s and I’m starting a Junk Pile
Leave your masterpiece in pieces like rough drafts
Next time that we meet pay no mind as I walk past
I give a bagel shop of fucks, with your face pressed to the glass
Couldn’t even catch a free ride if you had a bus pass
Bust back, smash fags, catch a foot in they ass
Show up last for the race, while I’m first in my class
Always smoking the grass, if you’re choking then pass
But every time I’m getting high, I kick the murderous raps
Leaving vertibrates snapped, laying pertinent tracks
Say they looking for a fight, well I ain’t looking for snacks
I got streusels in stacks, spitting useless facts
Calling me 'dawg’ like they part of a Poodle Frat?
Show up to your party, yeeeeah, and I diss you in a noodle hat
But now I’m bound to leave, gotta get my shit intact
With my business exact, merkin’ sewer rats
Fourth word of the first line is where The Business is at,
BITCH!
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