Wipin off rappers I'm usin Johnson and Johnson
I quit being a hero I prefer the cookie monster
Eatin it up and chewin it up to guard both sides of the street
Both sides of the street to prevent a double cross
And I never got assistance in my life to write a rhyme
My tongue is biolethal I ain't even got a gun
I'm tryna make some sense of the rands but I don't have none
Love for the game with the best looming outcome
I was in school for cool and while I'm payin my dues
I hear from monks and Socrates how to make my moves
I move faster, rip mics right past ya
? did damage enough to have them bandaged
And now I'm done I'll be busting down doors
Killed all the guards and made my way to the throne
Queen of the south I'm the queen of the underworld
Got the rap game in the hands of a little girl
Gigi Lamayne where art thou, nkosazana
Intoxicated by the spirits of the sound
The Biggies and the Pacs, the Commons and the Nases
The Amus and the Nthabis, the Tumis and the Zubzes
I mean I can't help but get to relate
To the rhythm of the real vs jingles of the fake
I can't take another hand shake of lace intentions
Planning on my checkmate but I wouldn't mention
Your homies couldn't really write these songs
Or spit this long
Strangled face with my grandmama's thong
You smoke a bong for you to come past me
Popping all over your career like acne
