"Catalyst Hammer II: This One's For The M"

Though I'm runnin' like Wally West, these black clouds still catch me
An' trap me, now I'm back on the sauce like +Hap Ashby+
Peepin' serpentine eyes an' various laughing
Varyin' madness, fools +jumpin' ship+, so - +batten down the hatches+
'Cause this nothin' less than war
+Anthropophagus+ flow, nothin' less than gore
I eat rapper after rapper, don't wanna test the vore
But you, can set a date for the scuffle, settle score
History in progress; they'll hear the champion's lore
Of how I took you down, like the Erymanthian boar
Hear the champion roar, crowd roar back, call an' response
A call to arms to draw your swords, draw your guns
Gon' withdraw your funds
I - take cash in big cloth money bags
It's in pocket, finna get lit like dummy bags
A pharaoh fly in death, Medusa head on mummy rags
Print spits what's definitive to him
Would've given you light, but y'all more sensitive than film
An' see Hip-Hop? It is genitive to him
Yeah man, so close, it's relative
An' he tends to flip when his mind's in the negative
So when he explodes, let the fella live
Forever give 'em a run, can't knock the brother out of place
Or get crumbled to dust, like +The Colour Out of Space+
Haters like zits, they be comin' out their face
Always sayin' that shit, but won't come up out their space
Tell 'em fuck up out my way, +crushin' feelin's+ like Gangsta Gibbs
Niggaz came to dilly dally, while I came to live
I'm Southside of Memphis 'til I die
That 38109, it's Westwood on my mind
No matter where I reside, I'm a product of the Bluff
Got the town's soul in my rhymes, product that is rough
My heart is that Nueve Cero Uno
E'rything ain't gravy here, but you know, dudes make it gravy-pseudo
'Cause we sincerely in a bad way
In the belly of the beast full of beasts, yearly bad days
My real name ain't akin to my rap shit
But it's realness in the ill shit that I'm rappin'
Chose a nom de plume 'cause my government
Is carryin' baggage, from the past, bunch of sucker shit
Foolish people, long time since I fucked wit' 'em
Would've buried the hatchet, but I need it to chuck at 'em
Don't tote heat, but might need it to buck at 'em
I'm tryin' hard to refrain from bein' stuck wit' 'em
Avoid two-lane roads where I'd be lumped wit' 'em
Don't get me stuck in no ways, might end up stompin' 'em
Won't be no squares in my circle, see drama come wit' 'em
An' I ain't ready to die, momma left uncomfortable
Can't understand what I've come to do, not even part the way
I can only be Fineprint, not Timberlake or Hardaway
Look, I'm 5'6" an' got two-left feet
Nigga ain't no way I'm hoopin' or dancin'
So I stick to my strengths, beat the odds an' get even wit' them
I know that this the season to win
These niggaz all temp service, seasonal men
An' I want this shit forever, cue that Aubrey single again
Heavy is the head wit' the crown on it
Stress went to town on it, but I'm still blessed
Hopefully what's next is a place where my head rest an' I can put down on it
Watch my enemies frown on it
Luck? I'm down on it, but I walk in the way that God shows
Even wit' writin' this dark prose
I'ma make it, I'm tellin' ya': God knows
Now nigga that's chuuch like Mt. Vernon on Parkrose