Bars of Death

[Verse 1: Nems]
If your shit ill, I must've got an ear infection
You think you nice 'cause your bars come with a cheerin' section
(Nah, you?)
I'm out in Europe gettin' vocal money
And you're only famous to your local buddies
Uh, ego is motherfucker
I play to win, G codes like a motherfucker
Game genius, flame idiots, cross borders, came in a van
Came in it when, little nigga, bitches called me pain in her neck
Then they fell in love on the block when I came in the vet
And then I came in [?], did it again but I came in her neck (Hold that)
When I started rhymin' I was labeled a threat (Yup)
And then my studio sessions became an event (Yup)
You don't believe me, I can play you cassettes (Yup)
Fuck your life, there's no lames in my set
I earnt my name with bar work and ass whoopins
You got your shit neck workin' and ass kissin' (Fuck outta here)
Yes-man and an ad libin'
I'm on the block, vest blammin' and cash gettin'
I'm the best, fam, and that's written

[Verse 2: Bugz]
Barchitects next in line and we past driven
Choppin' records to labels, we in the back pimpin'
You'll get stuck behind these bars like your ass biddin'
Woah, we big dogs outta p-u-p's
Run this shit from the Brookyn to the BQE
With bars of death, nigga, we 'bout to show stop it
Puttin' work in while these faggot niggas globetrottin'
That's cock suckin' and road blockin'
I'm in the gutter Glock tuckin' and chrome poppin'
In the jail where they shot niggas for phone options
I was chillin' slide cuffin' and phone watchin'
At first they was hatin' and now they up on it
Team HOMI, fuck your life, put some bucks on it
A different breed, they might not wanna touch on it
If you ain't made from this cloth, you ain't cut for it
I see revenge just like a bag of gold
And for them karats, I put you in a rabbit hole
I done tagged more niggas than [?]
And then left niggas right with their Taddle Toes
Thats a homi fact, turn beef into waste
I squeeze pounds, you don't wanna get your body wrapped
What's you weaklings to these three kings?
Try to move forward, just remember three things

[Verse 3: Money Bagz]
The Barchitects and Gorrila Nems, boy, you know it's wild
Everybody talkin' New York, this how is 'posed to sound
Careful for the vultures 'round
See we puttin' work in, gettin' global now
Let it p-o-p, you better hold it down
I'm on the crown, these rappers liers, I'm too honest
They say they loyal, but watch 'em switch for a few commas
Feel like I'm Arabic, got me walkin' with two llamas
Boy, you dead, we'll get you ragged like shoe polish
Get your shine box standin' there with the nine Glock
Five shots, gon' have to work on Wall Street, see [?] stock
And why not? Police put cameras all up on my block
Ironic that the gun would bark, but you get a pawn box
My rhymes hot, keep it real, don't do the imitaters
'Cause they don't shoot when you go down like incinerators (Get it?)
I'm quick to spray you, put your body in the Himalayas
This a threat, then I mail a cheque like that [?] player
Listen, trash rappers fuckin' up the scenery
Skinny jeans were from the era there was guns on DVDs
Give a fuck if you famous, what that mean to me?
Get you [?] at your interview at TMZ
Bars of death