Bust it, I let the beat commence so I can beat the sense of your elite defense
I got some meat to mince, a crew to stomp, and two feet to rinse
I greet the gents and ladies, I spoil loyal fans
I foil plans and leave fluids leaking like oil pans
My coil hands around this microphone are lethal
One thought in my cerebral is deeper then a Jeep full of people