Don’t do weirdo, my flow is dinero
I’m Shakespeare from the very bottom of the zero
My flow is Jim Bean mixed with chlorine and morphine
Iller metaphors rig a tire to scream, ugh
I’m the alphabet alpha
Cigarette cigar move for six salgas
Rap for six hours, clog up computer routers
I’m ten drugs in one powder
Living in a concrete world with one flower
Sour, clogged in your Internet browser
Razor blade in your Eddie Bauer
Vessels made for the heavy shower, coward
See my pride won’t allow it
This is why I threw two planes at the towers
Gravedigger Illa, cascade grenade spitting lemonade scriptures
You niggas know you can’t fuck with
Illa Ghee and Brooklyn
I’m fucking incredible, ugh
In the rap race, spraying mace on the music
DNA of hate, but it tastes like grapes
And you ain’t fearing me lyrically
You feeling it really
Your boy Illa is the verbal World Series
Illa is the verbal hardcore, spitting words of world war
Plans to kill presidents, it comes with a brochure
Rap like a Kia coat found in a coat store
Imagine I’mma see them both found with their clothes off
Playing with grenades since first grade
Fuck seven MCs that battle parades
Grave robbing niggas where wolves at?
Come through pillage many hoods on wolfback
Do a drive-by in the kayak
I yak wild, I’m getting head while I’m high on trout
Half of destiny in the smile
Illa Ghee makes a beat bleed in front of a crowd
Illa