"Bars Goin' Crazy (#CutTheCheck)"

Verse 1:
Cut from a cloth ya arms an' legs couldn't purchase
Beauty's only skin deep, yet I'm bringin' it to the surface
In my veins is the essence of flow, energy surgin'
A walk in my shoes'll leave you fools bruised an' burnin'
I see you - dudes ain't learnin', but I'm less concerned wit'
Droppin' - repeated knowledge on that ass, that's earnest
It's the return of the - "Legend in the Making": Blessed, awakened
Fresh an' blazin', direct, on point, impressive an' amazin'
Wrote this rhyme wit' Rihanna's vaginal fluids; too cocky
Is Fine e'ry time rappin' his music
Keep ya heads +spiralin'+ just like, "Uzumaki"
An' ringin' wit' bats in ya belfry -- Lord, help me
These streets wicked, poppin' more tops than Pringles
So I urge you: Keep heat on ya' side, like shingles -- ugh
I need registers to ring an' jingle, jewels to blind an' bling
Proof of doin' my thing

Hook(x2):
Got them, bars ready an' they goin' crazy (Goin' crazy)
Got them, bars ready an' they goin' crazy (So crazy)
Got them, bars ready an' they goin' crazy
So just cut the check an' pay me (Fuck the bullshit)

Verse 2:
Dumbin' it down a notch, might lose y'all niggaz
An' the last thing I want is to confuse y'all niggaz
It ain't really much else to prove, y'all niggaz
Arms too short to box -- Foosball figures
Who's y'all niggaz? Who juiced y'all niggaz?
Pumped y'all heads up like Spalding vulcanized rubber
Consult my rhymes, for the, bulk of lines smothered
Wit' sauce, to live long an' prosper -- no, Vulcan sign, brother
Forget that line 'bout - dumbin' it down
I'm comin' around, loaded an' cocked; tongue is a pound
Verbally dumpin' at clowns, comin' for crowns
An' I ain't speakin' dental work, aimin' for ya mentalworks
Let the Oowop pop, Doo-wop ya' head like Joc's do
Bustin' like wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-lop-bam-boom
Ain't no Glocks, it's tunes
Swallow ya' pride, you obnoxious goons

Hook(x2)

Verse 3:
Y'all are - not on my level, or my league -- get ya' brakes tweaked
Print's like a firearm -- off safety
He's - itchin' to blow, a pistol of chrome
Shinin' an' glistenin', wit' a rubber grip on him though
Cocked back, hair trigger wit' a fully loaded clip
The hammer bang an' gray matter will stain like holy shit
It's holy spit, but god isn't my title; I'm a seraph
Verbally blazin', finish 'em off like a serif
The words more +symbolic+ than Wingdings by Charles Bigelow
Got 'em yellin' "Bomaye, nigga! Flow!"
So I - kill 'em slow, like high sodium an' radon outputs
You can sit ya crayon down, putz
This bout is kaput, see Print keep it +live+, like
I'm Chevy Chase an' you're not
Got heavy base, a pure drop on the track, that's crack
An' ya' ears receivin' this fix
If you receivin' this mix, then you receivin' me goin'
Dumber - than Keak Da Sneak an' 40 in a Scraper
Bars goin' crazy, tweakin' more than faders
I'm weak to borin' haters, but the speech is born of greatness