| Yeah once again presenting, kid capri | |
| Ras kass the waterproof mc, punchline | |
| (ras kass) | |
| These faggot mcs be on skis with the microphone though | |
| But it's all downhill hitting trees like sonny bono | |
| Name a nigga i couldn't burn and he probably created the earth in six days | |
| I shot at jesus with a tech fives times | |
| Hanging the pope with six strings, the name is ras kass | |
| Might eat a little pussy but i don't kiss ass homeboy | |
| I'm righteous and wicked and this acquisition of riches is like | |
| Selling bean pods and still fucking white bicthes | |
| (punchline) | |
| I rap crazy, you better get fifty niggas to blaze me | |
| Or ace me, been rhyming since 220 ad | |
| You feel gazy?, i'm top ten with the raps | |
| Off the list you scratch, like serial numbers on gats | |
| I lace tracks with ill lines 20 bar rhymes | |
| My verses got long sentences like jail times | |
| Press rewind, listen to jams when i cool out | |
| I only fuck a bitch in the park if she juiced out | |
| Going new routes to maintain my composure | |
| Anticipated while you still screaming to get exposure | |
| Rap soldier in the cipher i'm first to set it | |
| My lyrics get the u.s. open without playing tennis | |
| (ras kass) | |
| Vindictive my voice pitch is beyond john blaze | |
| I'm john cremation, you conversation with aspirations | |
| Of me leaving blood stains from earth to venus | |
| Them so-called rap stars will still be living | |
| With they moma like an unborn fetus | |
| As soon as you step on stage i'ma destroy you with the truth | |
| Like the ricki lake show, don't come out the soundproof booth | |
| Or poof, plucked in your bubblegoose | |
| A lost angel, i strangle at an angle that's obtuse | |
| (punchline) | |
| Yo, my styles viscous, put niggas before bitches | |
| Collect riches, bone chickens without trickin | |
| And stay spitting mad rhymes in your direction | |
| Always repping get you open like seasections | |
| I rhyme greata set it off without jada | |
| My flava leave a nigga shook like vibrators | |
| Rap composer of the hit your styles over | |
| I make an mc cry just like robin on ophra | |
| Give you the cold shoulder guess who rhymes slicker | |
| I gross figures, shed light on shady niggas | |
| And write rhymes, roast niggas that take mine | |
| Gave birth to so many styles i should have my tubes tied | |
| One time, when rappers need concentration | |
| Embarrass i nigga, like getting caught masterbating | |
| I'm fascinating, i make you wallow in your sorrow | |
| Clutch the bottle you get your childish style fondled | |
| My rap tactics make you want to go home and practice | |
| Match this, drop jewels like biago rackis | |
| I come rough for all niggas that front | |
| I'm all that five mics and quotable for the month | |
| (ras kass) | |
| I be on some bullshit like the unamits and vigorous rhyming | |
| And until buchwhick bill starts dunking on kobe bryant | |
| I'm applying pressure, check out my melody | |
| The eighteenth letter, the first letter | |
| The nineteenth letter for cheddar | |
| And get a barrette explosive tip shredders to make the rum-redder | |
| To make the deader then coretta | |
| Scott king's husband who had a dream | |
| I get in you with no vaseline | |
| And burn rubber so i tap that ass like savion glover | |
| (punchline) | |
| That the sedative cause your shits repetitive | |
| And played out, tried to run game but it got rained out | |
| Wasn't thinking about this style until we came out | |
| Took a detour when some of ya'll went the same route | |
| Thoughts about doing punchline make me tickle | |
| When my flow changes like pennies, dimes and nickels | |
| Organized rhymes we make the girls realize | |
| We humiliate niggas like a small dick size | |
| Now you wanna click nines, front and sip wines | |
| Take mine, can't mess with ras and punchline |
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