SLAUGHTER!

*Sandlot soundbite*

[Verse 1]
I’m too weird to live, too rare to die
A prototype of God, I let my spirit testify
‘cause ain't no one praising me for all the crazy schemes
That I could lay with ease, even while staying witty
I ain't been spraying my team all over your radar
But if you notice me then you should prolly know who they are
Well, we’re the squad coming up outta Boston
With no regards for your small talk or the cost
Of accosting the game. Subtlety is not the wave
To make a name for yourself, show you're not the same
It's harder than it seems but take a risk and be part of
The rap game. Grab a mic, man, go and slaughter
But then you'll have daughters on ‘ya acting like they wanna
Have a couple kids with you, turn you right into a father
But you're smarter. I'm thinking that I ought to be a martyr
I'll die ‘fore I get caught up like these mics I'm finna slaughter
I think I ought to be a martyr
I'll die ‘fore I get caught up… but let me call ‘ya
Yeah… I’mma call ya’
Pick up the phone, though