You wanna battle in my house, then Imma smack you in the mouth,
Cause I'm the baddest cat to rap beyond a shadow of a doubt,
So it don't matter what you bout, cause I'm here to be the source of all this motherfuckin' damage,
Yes I be, following recipe meant to be something that most cannot manage,
Givin’ you physical raps, spittin’ the facts, over a kick and a clap,
Taking the lead you ain’t gettin it back, you'll be hittin the ground with a miserable splat,
Fell from the top, these pitiful cats, they finna get smacked, Listen to that
My head is so big it can’t fit in a hat, and I ain’t even at my pinnacle yet.
.. Call it my prime, I am not polished with all of these rhymes,
Straight out comics, the monsters of crime, but I'm just stallin for time,
You better focus mayne, when I roast your ass on an open flame, don't complain,
I'll choke a lame, then smoke a Game, till my dopest brain becomes the most insane,
Here's a toast to pain, and making it happen, you can tell just by the way that I'm rappin'
Way to proactive, I ain't the type to sit around waiting for action,
For the life of me, I'm too hype to be, so Breaker take this mic from me,
Breaker Breaker, do you fukken copy?
We be the boys rockin' all the tops off the girls with the hot bods just to get our rocks off
They ain't tellin' us to stop so we pop-off shots from the glocks in our pants like we lockstock
Two barrels smokin'/We Kumar and Harold tokin', thinkin' that we damn-well jokin'
We leave your body in a barrel floatin' in the ocean/By the way/How's that goin'?
Wanna see a show/Then abra-kadabra/Bad men stab ya/Hit 'em in the lungs like a gas made of asthma
If you Wanna clash then step up/I'll bash ya like a disaster
They call me Breaker, first name Sound
Beatin' punks up as I'm layin' lines down
Me an' Berd spit the words that you heard/The absurd verses of a geek and a nerd
We the fleet of foot on the street/So good with the beat/So fast we blurred
Entertain alla y'all with a change in refrain and a cane to the arse of a range of insane
phrases and thangs you never seen before but believe me/You won't be deterred
And if you're thinkin' your shit don't stink then please believe me/Your rose is a turd
You're over and out and broke at the mouth and that's what you only deserve
So go be the worst while we throw these a curve in the form of an SB verse
And a poem in flame from the golden brain of the one-and-only Big Berd!
. . . . I guess I gotta get 'em again,
Hit 'em once, hit 'em twice, hit 'em hard, hit 'em right, s'how I fight when I hit 'em with the pen,
I'm silly with the syllables, still so spiritual, looking at myself and I'm a mother-loving mirrorful,
Isn't it odd, a physical god to you pitiful frauds, now witness my miracles,
I'll knock you off, cause ya rocks is soft, you is not a boss, who you tryna fool?
I've told you dudes, so don't confuse, what my motives to, I ain't lyin'a you,
Cash, fast, coming in, giving it a hundred ten, you know that I come to win, bathing in the stuff of sin,
motherfucker brotherfriend, If we all'd just hit the reefer there'd be peace and love again
You just don't get it, don't you know I'm musically divine?
Now, abuse is well and fine Imma be stupid with my rhymes that are unusually refined and confuse you all the time.
Just try to process that, and try real hard,
But you better salute the real stars.