Fly Shit

[Intro: Aasim w/ chants in the back]
South Side
Jamaica, Queens area, ‘bout to break the sound barrier
What you want, son?
I seen the protector give it to you just like this
Fly Shit

[Hook: Aasim]
Keep lacing ‘em with fly shit, my shit
Me and my clique, the niggas I was born with—probably die with
Get high with, write three-dozen live rhymes with
London Iced Tea sipping, Hooptie-driving kids I ride with

[Verse 1: Aasim]
My rap tech's better than black sex, each track my rap bless
Tap sets like data caps, the backs from black Tec's
Attacks complex, facts whack the brain
And so you collapse and lack breath
I cook on this grill, ill soul who like a black chef
Scholastic philosopher, maneuver well on this rap track militant opera
D’X de la ghetto, el lyrical perfecto
Got rappers stranded like inmates with no el collecto
Flash Gordon verses merciless, murderous dispersin’ this
Thrist on this fly nigga with turbulence
Word in this microphone massacre, menace composition manufacturer
Black rhythm rapturer, bloody throat like Dracula

[Hook: Aasim] (x2)
Keep lacing ‘em with fly shit, my shit
Me and my clique, the niggas I was born with—probably die with
Get high with, write three-dozen live rhymes with
London Iced Tea sipping, Hooptie-driving kids I ride with

[Verse 2: Aasim]
Our whole fortress, I seen the God of Reason paint portraits
Lyrical forces, four horses horseman offense
Non-rock star, Black Chucks, my crew rock far
Praise all while some screaming, “Allahu Akbar”
My uncle locked in, I try and shine for him consecutive
Years keep stocking while the blue murderers clock in
Mind state’s like “Wait”
I’m chopping combatants to small size
Voice sharp, cutting eardrums, open all eyes
Sleeping on the individual straight from South Side
Jamaica, Queens side, emcee high off my word lye
Verbs linked to heart attacks, raising hell over tracks
Double-S soldier, look over your shoulder, behind your back
The architect "X", I pose more than a threat
Perform on your set, Hip hop—nah, a war vet
Storm the context, the mic’s my sword of iron
Use it like Conan for survivin', you chose to battle against this lion
Roaring, I could go on and on and on and
F-O-F roamin', hit hard like a stonin'
Leavin' opponents all broke down into components, kid
Quote this the exact way, I wrote this, composed this

[Hook: Aasim] (x2)
Keep lacing ‘em with fly shit, my shit
Me and my clique, the niggas I was born with—probably die with
Get high with, write three-dozen live rhymes with
London Iced Tea sipping, Hooptie-driving kids I ride with

[Verse 3: Aasim]
My phonics is economics, my atomic bomb be casualties
I think I was a accident born through acid from batteries
I’ve expressed myself verbally since the birth of me
Niggas couldn’t acquire my skills if they had surgery
Literally, I could lyrically start a colony in Italy
Mentally and physically—Yo son, niggas is feeling me
If rap was church, I’d be the pastor and the freakin' deacon
After I finish speaking, niggas brains’ll be leaking
Competition that want head-on collisions: Get a airbag!
I chisel through littered crews, like tanks through troops in Baghdad
Emcees: they got the bomb, they got duds, I got studs
Blowing spots when they drop—Take me out? Get off the drugs
From Malibu to The Avenue, they blast the tape
Can’t stand rapping after wack rappers ‘cause they be leaving that wack aftertaste
I rhyme phat, girls reach climax from one line that…