Beast Ballad (feat. Crooked I, Ryhmefest, Juice & Nino Bless)

Ey
 I swear there's nobody in the industry fuckin with Chicago rap niggas
 Believe me
 I give it to you niggas if you want it
 This for you, Va
 What up, P
 I'm the grimiest nigga
 With the weapon I'm smackin ya
 A Legend like Acura
 Plus I'm ryhmin with vigor
 With a better work ethic they say I mighta been Jigga
 There's no regrets, the flow is wet, my nigga, cry me a river
 Exceptional vernacular, weapons spectacular
 And I'm never satisfied, somebody grab me a Snicker
 Named J-U-ICE like the diamonds that glitter
 When rhymin in a blizzard, seein me's like tryina get a lining with scissors
 Plus I'm throwin back a fifth of that Dom, my nigga, it's fryin my liver
 Supplyin the piff and? infinite
 I don't even gotta try to get ignorant
 Like Theo and Vanessa dad I can deliver it
 Plus I do it just to brag, I am a intricate rhymin wizard
 Intravenous dope up in every rhyme and I'm spittin it
 It's like I'm puttin coke in every line and you sniffin it
 Plus I carry a nine, Terry Shine, I'm rippin it
 I am not here to spit metaphors or create dances
 I am a can of whoop-ass ready to open
 Willin and hopin you would provoke him
 Try to insult me, I will punch you in yo face until my fists start smokin
 Till my hands start soakin in the blood from the wounds that was open
 From the shit you was talkin out of motion
 I'm emotionless, I beat you to a Pulp for yo Fictional
 Some old John Travolta shit, hocus pocus, bitch
 It's the magic show, spooks disappear down the rabbit hole
 LJ guerilla warfare, my shit's tactical
 I hold grudges,?, do not touch it
 Fuck with, walk away from me, man, say "Fuck it"
 You don't want it, get stomped by the Brown Hornets
 Vakill, Crooked I and J, we all on it
 Keep your friends close, your enemies closer
 Fuck that, kill your enemies, yo, this ain't Oprah
 We gon' ride
 Look I don't give a fuck, my motto is live it up
 Keep your glass half full, see mines, I fill up
 You want war, please give it up, the gig is up
 I'm sick enough to penetrate?
 Yes it's Brooklyn's crooked minister
 Spit conscious shit, then push some kush when I finish up
 I administer the sickest of scripts since
 That Indian that wrote the script to the Sixth Sense
 You lames spittin should quit and go back to 'caine, bitches
 Is you insane, you must? simpin
 Got your blood on my blade drippin, I ain't kiddin
 I pierce your chest like a?, you lay stiffen
 Dog, I stay trippin, you know I was playin, pimpin
 I end his life cause this wasn't in G and Kane's vision
 Yeah I'm game uptown for that same mission
 Aim-clickin, bang-spittin, flame sick as Twain's diction
 Yeah, even though I'm holdin hot burners
 This killer is colder than hyperthermia
 A single round spin'll sit you down like a hernia
 Me and Rihanna, we got a seperate definition for 'disturbia'
 I'm mentaly disturbed, nigga, I murder ya
 That prrrat put a peephole in your flesh
 A keyhole in your chest
 Then I open up your torso
 Just like a door, so
 Death can walk in
 Negro, I'm depressed, please know I'm a mess
 Send you right upstairs
 Gun treat you like them Billie Jean sidewalks, the way they light up squares
 Yeah, kill kickdrums, tie up snares
 Wanna describe my flow in one word? Try 'unfair'
 Tireless nights I spit fire into wireless mics
 Till I expired its life, until my life expired I'm fly as a kite
 And I'm firin iron that'll turn any Iron Mike into Brian McKnight
 Mmmwwaaa, good night
 I'm hate's Cupid on a poison-tipped arrow assignment
 Strapped to the?
 My barrel alignments never minded enough exposin bone-marrow confinement
 Non-rhymers' subsconcious is vicious
 Only pussy gettin past these bars is conjugal visits
 Ganja exquisit, when inhaled conjure a vision
 Explicit as point blank with a rocket launcher?
 My physic's the Lord's best kept secret, swept under His rug
 Cracked the earth with a thunderous tug
 I work wonders with slugs, I'm a blunder with blood
 It will spill until the angels come and plunge in the flood?
 This that new Chi, necks frosty, bars is Windex-glossy
 Next costly mistake I'm squeezin Tecs?
 Any nigga that plans to ex-off me
 Ain't got two snowballs chances on a anatomically correct Frosty
 You ain't heard no bars that's inhuman and wild
 Mushroomin a cloud till all you bitches consumed in a pile
 God and Satan reunion is now
 And if Obama gets shot there'll be more blood in crackers than fuckin communion allows
 Can't shit breathin dishonour these verses
 Only cracks you'll find in my arm is 2 for 5's if the fuckin economy worsens