33rd Chamber

[Intro: Gibby Stites]
Hey yo! Straight out the motherfuckin' lands of Illville! That crazy motherfucker that's still ill! These other rappers acting as if they the real deal! But I'ma show you what the 33rd Chamber's like! G-I-B ain't nothing to fuck with! IllVille Worldwide ain't nothing to fuck with! On Demand ain't nothing to fuck with! Hold up!

[Verse 1: Gibby Stites]
Break out the ouija board and summon me (Summon me)
I'm underground, somehow you still under me
Haters looking salty indeed, as if for something sweet
Let's just say it's Halloween, homie, I ain't come for treats (I ain't come for treats)
You thought I was soft? Well you a trick, pal
Coming with that raw IllVille sick style
Still fuck the gang, she getting dickеd down
I feel like GZA on the track that 36 album
No love in my hеart, they like How come?
Motherfuckers always prove I'm better off without them
Tell me why you talkin' and typin' 'bout what you don't know
I'm killin' rappers, they findin' I'm 'bout to fold ov’
Every time that you rhyming, they thinking oh no
Engineer ain't testing your timing 'cause you got no flow
You ain't dissing on mines and I pay no mind though
Everything will be A-OK, I stay in grind mode

[Chorus 1: Gibby Stites]
Straight from the Ville where they came to trust it
G-I-B ain't nothing to fuck with
Going against me you'll be kicking the bucket
G-I-B ain't nothing to fuck with
All up in your face and you still can't touch it
G-I-B ain't nothing to fuck with
Hope you make it fat with no scratch or budget
G-I-B ain't nothing to fuck with

[Verse 2: Gibby Stites]
And they can talk all day if they want
Cuz when I hit the stage I bet their lady way in the front
So, let's just spit the facts, I ain't finna act like We The Best
But how you gonna act like you finna snap when we up next?
Typin' in the comments, I pop up and you could lose your thread
You 'bout as salty as all the thotties we leave on read
This a game of chess, small pawns when people check
Thinking this a checker table, your record label should reinvest
IllVille in this bitch, I don't see no threats
Where are my dogs at? RIP to DMX for real
Still ill at the most for real killing the flows
Call the coroner when we in the building at shows
Shoutout to the OGs who told me cash rules everything so I make it with my poetry
At night before I go to sleep write another sixteen
Put some sour in a Dutchie, ain't shit sweet?

[Chorus 2: Gibby Stites]
GibZilla came cold to crush it
G-I-B ain't nothing to fuck with
Rappers ain't safe when he up in the function
G-I-B ain't nothing to fuck with
Get a knuckle sandwich with no ketchup or mustard
G-I-B ain't nothing to fuck with
I be spitting gas, hit the track and combust it
G-I-B ain't nothing to fuck with

[Outro: Gibby Stites]
DJ Heavy what up?