Yo
How should I get it started?
Fuck it, just get it started
Like Method Man, here's your lesson plan
With your weekly target
"Prove who hits the hardest"
I'd rather jump in the dump
And fashion me a trash emcee
That would spit me less garbage
Than half of these battery-sapped wack cavalry cats
That gather cheap tracks, like second-hand Adidas slacks
Like the bad Marshall Mathers Relapse
Be grateful for you Recovery
Came suited in black tie
And ended up in casual-tee
Hate my rhymes, 'cause they don't taste of Grime?
You're just a belt made of watches
What a fuckin waist of time
And y'all think I'm constipated 'cause I don't give a shit?
I have genetic diarrhoea kid, it runs in my jeans
Fruity punch lines have you beat to a pulp
Must be bananas if you think I couldn't eat you in a gulp
Crossed the line? How can that be?
I stuck it up your ass cheeks
And had you spitting shit lines all last week, fuckaa!

Everybody in here
(Listen up, y’all)
It's time for you to stand clear
(Your fists are up? Bruh...)
You don't want a bar fight
(We love the buzz)
So you'd better play your cards right
(And fuck with us)
Say you're in here for some action
Keep pressing me, ya sure as
Hell gonna have some
Best believe you'd better
Back up off me before I go crazy
And tell me again are you friend or foe

I'm blowing up like atom bombs
Transition from 'tag along'
Can't stand sitting, ambition's something
I've never sat upon
Watch the hands ticking
My plan thickens, I gather songs
Homie spit 'em like napalm, slowly slipping my cape on
Get ya' decks, I'm finna get ya ears pumping
Like Britney spear jumping around
Wearing a pair of Sketcher treads
Acting bold the way you're wigging out
There ain't no friggin doubt
You fools and clowns couldn't draw a crowd
If I gave you an Etcher Sketch
Why do so many emcees all sound like they're the same?
Spitting similar punch lines for all these hair-brains
Stop the drums drumming to let you know a shit pun's coming, like
"Now I'm fly, so fly..."
"Airplane"
Guest rappers fill the total tracks duration
I duet with myself like vocal masturbation
'Cause my sex drive's so frantic
I travel the land, skip across the Atlantic
Virgin

Everybody in here
(Listen up, y’all)
It's time for you to stand clear
(Your fists are up? Bruh..)
You don't want a bar fight
(We love the buzz)
So you'd better play your cards right
(And fuck with us)
Say you're in here for some action
Keep pressing me, ya sure as
Hell gonna have some
Best believe you'd better
Back up off me before I go crazy
And tell me again are you friend or foe

What is cataclysm?
Is it when 'Cap is given a track to spit 'n
He raps with such precision
That it makes the atom split in two
Causing a black hole?
Panic-ridden inhabitants of the planet
Driven to extinction?
What an asshole
Mad-Cap / MC
The letters are blowing up
Just call me a male-bomb
Show me some love, or I'll
Crash into your limousine
Smashing through the window screen
Shove glass into your liver, spleen and
Blast you into smithereens
Warning to anyone stealing my wealth away
Like a recovering sex addict
I'm not feeling myself today
So don't test me
Just bum out in your sweaty vesty
Yelling 'Jerry' at terrestrial telly sets
From your messy settee
See, life's like Jenna Jameson
It sucks to be alive
Barely enough to keep surviving
Fuck the luxuries you buy, bring me
A bottle of whisky
A shot full of Fifty
A model that's frisky
And bring that fucking chorus in

Everybody in here
(Listen up, y’all)
It's time for you to stand clear
(Your fists are up? Bruh..)
You don't want a bar fight
(We love the buzz)
So you'd better play your cards right
(And fuck with us)
Say you're in here for some action
Keep pressing me, ya sure as
Hell gonna have some
Best believe you'd better
Back up off me before I go crazy
And tell me again are you friend or foe