yo, my peeps calls my sam
fuck lowers uppers are the plan
i got style, i got time
just cause im white dont mean i cant ryhme
they call me the next tupac
the shit i spit is so hot
so i fall to my knees my stride turns to a crawl
i try to look back and then i hear the call
i feel like nothin but small i put my head to the wall
show my skill and just rock it, grab the mic and just shock yaa
Destroy every opponent, admire my skill I own it
G-kid cant handle this, this rap is hysterical
keep hidin yo face like misterio,right now im sitin here eatin these cheerios
lookin for the light, ill show ya which way to go
im like a gps never get lost,cause like a man, i pick it up fuck it up and mix it up
got my eyes on the prize, you cant see this cause like hellen keller your blind
if you dont notice, this shits been on, you may be the king but fuck that im the don, now,
with all this bitchin and moanin, your whinin and groanin,
you cant handle this i know it
so on good note im ending this, with a rhyme of articulance, i just hope you liked that i kicked it better than G-Kid
WOOORRRDDDDD
(I didn't write this, david did)
