Breathe freestyle

Your boy sick

So move or the germ might touch ya

I'm at the rucker, burning them trees up like Usher

When I teach you how to rap fam

I'm in that black van

Like Air Ones and Canaries the size of Pacman

Who gives a fuck if it's our brawl

Cuz my dog got the windows from the 24-Hour slawg

I'm on the verge of flippin

Lord send me a sign, before I empty this nine, and leave the board drippin

Me and 50 are like Michael and Pippin

Ryu and Ken, whoever you send, I'ma rip em'

I'm added to society, mainly wit my system

Run and put em' in the truck, like a kidnapping victim

I'm papa so they pushin me harder

My associates got interior motives like bush an his father

I figure, I rather play wit these blades before i pass

Build a ballcourt, and go buy Bentleys to go to crash

I'm headed towards my prime

Wit metaphors and mines

And I compliment my momma wit pedacures and wine

I'm nine for nine, the rap Einstein

Pound for pound

I'm Tyson a.k.a Icyin

Message for the record

I ain't sleepin for a second

So even if i make it theres tool under the pillow

I'm brought up, to the V wit a poolish from the window

I'ma smoker, so the brokas won't leave us wit the Indo

I'm always wit a pair, before the crew looks for the bimbo

A dead meats in ur daughter

I'll fuck her and won't support her

I'm matching on the pedal

Smile from ear to ear

Middle finger in the air

Before I catch her eye

Keep rydin behind your tens fuck

Niggas don't know no Denim

They'll rob you for the rhinestones and your pimp cup

They goin off of we say

Niggas is runnin off from my buzz, fatser than Jamaicans in the relay

I'm blowin the cush, driving lazy in the lane

Yelling money ain't a thang

Like Jay-Z and Jermaine

About 80 on the chain

Like Brady wit the aim

I'm the same

Whether the Mercedes or the train

And I may be on a plane

By the end of the night

But it's aight

Tho, I might throw

I'm rich off a Mic Hoe

My stamina's low

X-Rated is my type so

I keep the crib packed in, no telling where it might go

Living room, dining room, bedroom, bathroom

Upstairs, nuts smared all over your Sasoon

Ya on that fly shit

That Southside shit

Thet I'ma sell at least ten million before i die shit

I'm from the block where the heafers be

To doing shows out in Pinkston when they rocking where your peppers see

And being gangsta ain't enough

A lil' nigga that's stuntin will put a killa in a box like Chuck

CHEAH!