[Verse One]:
My sorrow is gothic
Phantom of the Opera, inspiration is haunted
Pain is the poetry that made my muse nauseous
That's how I make mu-SICK
Rappers claiming a gangsta excuse for not doing no new shit
Down south they screw hits
I'd rather screw a silencer into a gat in slow-mo and 'do hits'
SK whisper like a sex symbol
Little cousin affiliated, neck tatted with a set symbol
It's like, ain't no hope in the world
Mike Jack want the little boys, R. Kelly want the little girls
And I don't know which is worse
I'm tryna snatch Alicia Keyes purse so I can learn a woman's worth
Parker doin' dirt, got hip hop cops
Tryna RICO Law a nigga if I don't go pop
But still can't solve the murders of 'Pac and Chris Wallace
Racial profiling, rapper profilers

[Hook]:
Niggas get ya bars up, spit a 100 bars what
Stop dick riding, fuck bitch you star struck
Get ya bars up, Henny Patron
Get ya bars up, double R up, get ya cars up
Get ya bars up, spit a 100 bars what
Stop dick riding, fuck bitch you star struck
Get ya bars up, money, hoes and chucks
Get ya stars up, niggas get ya bars up

[Verse Two]:
Fuck Hip Hop nigga, that's skull junk
I write classics to make ya think about somethin
Fuck if ya dance to it, here's a leg-breaker
Hold a hand grenade, now shake it like a salt shaker
Homie, drop a bomb to that
Decapitate a hostage after we bomb Iraq
And penitentiaries is packed with old black niggas
Mad cause they crack smoked they life away
Hate a youngster cause he see in him his lost youth
Some motherfuckers be testing, number one jail house lesson
Heard misery loves company
Is that why failure and sabotage keep bumping and grinding on me?
Humble nigga, but I learned in life
People don't respect nothing but pre-emptive strikes
And 9 times out of 10 you can avoid bullshit
For the 10th, the reason I carry nines with full clips
Felon, lost the right to bear arms, so I wear long sleeves
Please believe I will still pull it
But the state of California done passed that new law
The Governator giving out a year for each bullet

[Hook]

[Verse Three]:
They say the first shall be last, last shall be first
My last name start with the letter A
Am I cursed? My moms gave birth inside a coffin
6 feet under the dirt, quenching a sick thirst
So I'm hungry enough to eat a bitch lung like Big Lurch
My battle between Angels and Demons, it gets worse
Won't put you on the cover cause you mastered grammar
But put you on the cover if you dance like Hammer
Fuckin hypocrites, I'm just telling the truth
Never stopped being spiritual but I still lust material
Diamond mines, slavery back again
And I'm smart enough to know what's happenin
But that don't stop me from having a pinky ring
Or a icy gold chain when you see me in traffic man
And I'm probably just ignorant enough to stunt
And gold-dip a real life African

[Hook]