Where's the intruder?
(Looks like he went to the tower)
Before I rock raps I drink a keg of Listerine
Then I spit the freshest rhymes you'll ever hear for centuries
Then I form blazing sword and cut your mic cords
And kill them garbage rhymes only your friends get hype for
Blitz your home team them niggas need to come clean
So I give 'em an acid wash like old school Levi jeans (lockjaw)
Crackin' a faulty frame
And I bring the house down without hijackin' planes
Lock stocked with two smokin' barrels and will use it
To fuck up more beats per minute than drum n' bass music
Trunks ain't a rapper he's a monster from the future
Twistin' your body in more positions than Kama Sutra
Smart-ass gettin' the Last Word with Jim Rome
With a right hand like Doctor Claw that's known for breakin' bones
(I'll get you next time gadget, next time)
We can have a close encounter of the fucked up kind
(Time warp, set on)
