Killuminati

(Yes, skrawberries)

I'm a beast with these flows

Two birds, one stoned, you get geese'd when trees rolled

They say I'm evil 'cause I trained my ego to see gold

'Cause he know, seagulls couldn't see these goals, please

It's the return of the Beast Coast

No cash flashed, but the cheese still make teeth show

Incognito, is how you move on the strip

What you tryna be, Vito? Well, there's rules to this shit

Don't get clapped, y'all ain't real spitters, y'all lips chapped

Better watch it, Mr. Nice Watch, don't risk that

I got a six-pack of bare skill that I spill like that

And everybody know (that shit crack!)

Y'all niggas softspoken, down below choking

The type to drop the soap when you soakin' in front of most men

It makes sense why you want beef, well this frozen

It's nuts for you screwed in the tool, and can't hold 'em

Better shoot yourself Plaxico, because I'm next to go

The Progressive flows from New York to New Mexico

My lyrical span is what the fans is demandin'

Step into my box and that's exactly what'chu stand in

Ain't no half steppin' around me

And you gotta drown a fish before you clown me

The young cop killer, I'm that ill, so doc' will ya

Give me two shots for 2Pac killer, nigga

Soul searchin' 'til my flows are perfect

I ain't tryna be a slave to grow old from workin'

Sorry Bada$$, you lucky that I peeped it second

Tell them niggas keep it steppin' with they beat selection

Check the melodies, it's so heavenly

That shit'll get your hips to move with no 7D's

Audi-opium, can I bust soliloquies?

Got that shit mixed and mastered, both remedies

Grab a spoonful, we stirrin' up a pot

And you know we gotta serve it while it's hot

I'm flowin' like a volcano and drippin' verses off the top

Dirty cops still swervin' on the block

Lookin' for black kids, that spittin' up acid

It's in my jeans, so don't worry what my pants is

Get with the script, it's that ignorant shit

And they bound to get sick of us quick, but I ain't sealin' my lips

It's a shift, I know you feel it man

We blowin' up like a ceiling fan

Droppin' off jewels like Killa Cam's man

When it comes to kickin' verses, I'm Mr. Van Damme

Crushin' strawberries, it's a jam

So throw up both hands if you can

Ironic how I'm killin' this shit, until they bury me

My volume is going in depth with longevity

Stupid