Son

Don't ya’ mind people grinnin’ in your face
Get hip to the bullshit, get wise to the games, ride straight-
And maintain, don't stray, stay, remain patient
When separating the real from the fakes
Little snakes slither hither with a bitter plan to wither
My continually growing, soul-eroding flow elixir
Shed your skin, bitches- I spit and rattle off the richter
Reimburse your cover charge
And then you'll leave covered in blisters- I’ll fold ‘em quicker
Mister mister made me laugh when he began to shake and shiver
Couldn't take the blizzard blastin’ so pass them-
Yeah, them props- Pass 'em over here my dear
The wrath is something you can't fathom in this stratosphere
I'll gladly tear your ego into shreds and separate the two sides of your face
Who lies and awaits the time to die at the stake
It's not a dis bitch, I dismiss your whole phony craft- Wack
Grinnin’ in my face, talking shit behind my back