[Intro]
Looks don't count better off judg—

[Verse]
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna—
Motherfucker, it's my goddamn honor
To eat a sucka MC like a hot lamb döner
Respect rook check dope blind dialectic
Took the perspective of open-minded skeptic
Where your skeptical's looks don't count
Better off judgin' by rhymebooks and sheer amounts
And work backwards from there
Angle of attack on a track was like a spear through the clear air *tongue-click*
What's your status? It's don status
Reserved for those who chose to go beyond madness
'Cause we like "Villain you must be out your taboggin' hoggin it's a horror"
Eatin' MC's like there's no tomorrow starvin'
Welcome to the club registration
We be waitin' right here collectin' off our nations revelation
Sensations of Latter-day Saints
Immortalized in black splattered spray paint, Faint
Ain't live and direct and kept his eye on the game
Like SpyTec
Mic check
Villain get booted out your online school
Student got straight-up A's in divine rule
Quicker than a sleight of hand like, "Damn"
Telepathy and telekinesis faster than InstaGram
See what he said, layin' his wood, get paid is at
From the States to your estate flat, ain't that