How To Emcee
I flow like a Reeva but I never won an Oscar
The steel in my hood will make you run faster
Make a wish when you see Oscar P, that's a shooting star
Lyrical Pistorius cruising on bars
Niggas is paraplegics
You couldn't run my city if we hosted Paralympics
For airplay I would have done that "Versace" flow a long time ago
But I wouldn't stoop that low
Is that suppose to mean something cause you rap in Tsotsi Taal?
The only sick line you know is the queue in the hospital
Nowadays cats be claimin they're on fire - liars
Either you're in hell or the crematorium
This is a one-man pandemonium
I'm from the neighbourhood
Called "I Wish A Nigga Would"
Then I moved to the precinct
Better known as "Oh Hell No, Bitch You Didn't"
When I die I want all my exes to carry the casket of mine
So they can let me down for the last time
Nowadays everyone is taking a ride
Politicians on a gravy train
Rappers on some New Age Kwaito bandwagon
Listen to the man rappin
Mr. Rashid is living proof - it can happen
If I win a battle against you - it was expected
If you lose a battle against me - you still get respected
I'm the R the A the S to the H.I.D
If I wasn't, I must have got the fake ID
If I'm the underdog, you's a top bitch
Be careful who you fuck with
I pack nines in Parrebellums
Rap lines that go over your cerrebellum
I drop one verse better than your whole album
I collapse the building on those who worship Rands and Nairas
Me and Rap go together like Scams and Naija
Everytime I write I Murder Ink like my name was Irv Gotti
Your music? Play it at my funeral - I'll listen over my dead body
You versus me - How the fuck you win?
I'll put you on your death bed and tuck you in
Don't even talk about guns
The only 4-5 you know is the one hold when you're masturbatin
I'm hatin
Broke niggas thinkin they keepin it real
Dope niggas never reachin a mill
Now stop talkin shit on Twitter, we can battle
Put your money where your mouth is, take it to Scrambles
You see? I'm a grown ass man and I hate rumours
I had groupies back in high school, you's a late bloomer
You been selling bullshit but I'mma make you payback the money like Jake Zuma
Fuck the criticism!
I should be on your top 3 list on lyricism
My metaphors are meta-8, I'm heavyweight
I measure eight on a Richter scale
The Son God is rich with them punches
I smoked too many rappers, now I eat their bitches for munchies
I'm sick like a Syphilis
You must be wearin a Guess watch - you don't know what time it is
You ain't runnin shit nigga, the streets we run them
Fuck it! I'm out like a used condom