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I'm handlin' you
wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em
I'm bandages and
Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap surrounds 'em
But I'm havin' a
with the rap game, and the trap game
I'm managin' my
Man these rappers out here reachin', arms are too short
the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods
Slaughterhouse, we the military in this
every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah
Fuck your apology, I'ma be on shit
March into war like in this bitch, yeah
You call it light work, this is my life's work
I turn around and beat up a beat I'm writin' Ike's verse
Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe
And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic
I'm murder the microphone
I'm murder the microphone
If you are what you eat, how come I'm not
That was part uno, this is part two

This the difference between y'all and real rap
The competition back, niggas ask
How did I use to drink
I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon, like Pharrell's hat
But all aside like I ordered fries
I'm liable to somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized
Before was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life
And Freeman was narratin'
(Say it again) I'm 5'9", not an inch
all of the jewelry, I've been baller
Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike
You let it out your sight and take it to sight see
Same shit, another nigga die today
My bitch (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates
(Why) we ain't vacayin' out of
Whinin' all the time, all she do was
We ain't like a holiday
Rappers will, be ill
Know when they die for
I take the word "lyrical" and it backwards
And that "laciryl"
And that's exactly how I feel, to Guru
I got the mass
I'm murder the microphone
I'm tryna murder the
give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up
(That was uno, this is part two though)

Oh you don't, don't let me yah
I body the beat and watch it skip, call it
The nerve of who ain't heard of
The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the
(House what up!)
groups basic mergers
We extort 'em a distance, takin' it further
could be all yours, why you want a war for?
You can't go at uno, mothafucka, a draw 4
We out as just a feature on a Joe joint
Fuck now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point
Brothers forreal, I can say
If you come at me, they'll be 3 on you while I'm still typin'
Meet fire, street fighters when pen's writin'
Shady, you go through us to get to Em,
(Come on, crook, you again)
Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do shit
[I'm tryna the microphone
I'm murder the microphone
Too many frogs go "ribbet" but leave lilies
(That was uno, this is part two though)

niggas might play cray, try slay me
Off my mic, vacay, call it right, it's
Right foot in melee, to light AK
Have you [?] Ice JJ
Do it for Em, my do it for bundles
Could've been the Phantom, copped the Benz bein' humble
Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em
return fire, even when Joey initiate it
How I feel these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all
Drake rhyme about these bitches, I fuck 'em all
A hundred guns, jeans big to tuck 'em all
clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all
Cause it's gats involved, bodies'll fall
From the sky, could really be cats and dogs
It's Joey! Nicer than any you rockin' to
Call a spade a spade, nigga try to suit
I'm murder the microphone
Bring it to life, I murder that microphone
Too many big dogs, not enough yet
(That was part uno, is part two though)