Monsters Ball

Verse 1 – Suffa
You sound like a ******* man,
Nymphos in your clip and disco riffs man,
Ill tell you this, OK, it dont fit man,
Its like OJ, little glove, big hand,
Step to this Ill take your miss, make her twist and,
Moan, like I ****** with the pitch man,
This land where the bricks stand,
On red sands, I spit grams of powdered Difflam,
To ease your muscle pain, do the hustle,
Came to tussle against the corporate gain man,
Parcels move train to plane in the struggle,
Markers give a claim to fame in the jungle,
Street revolutionaries, we the evolutionary,
Anomalies, but stupidly they try stopping me,
Thats only making me a martyr we ,
Like opiates in the vein, attack the arteries,
Dont get smart with me; I got a heart in me,
Like Pharlap, and gone so far raps now a part of me,
I got camaraderie, the great unwashed,
I got a heart in me that pumps straight up scotch,
But crews still try to diss me, till I switch it on em,
Like they try to diss Fats , till they see a picture of him,
Big boys, aint small man, they tall and,
Ugly, want to cut me come join and join the monsters ball man.
Verse 2 – Pressure
These are the last of days, a vast array,
Of fake ******s up in a masquerade,
Its swim or drown, we act we dont sink,
Its primal instinct we rap we dont think,
Its do or die, no turning back like suicide,
Till youre doing time with these cut throats in a suit and tie,
So dont feed the animals, or act a fool,
Your just one man, a young lamb amongst a pack of wolves,
So while youre fighting over scraps and loose change and moot claims,
Pressures higher up in the food chain,
And small time predators rove in packs,
That why big time executives throw them scraps,
So much static that this is such a hazardous business,
And having to witness that half these rappers are *******,
Got me laughing hysterically, Ive the heart of a pedigree,
So pissing on the next man is just marking my territory,
Rivals will claim over head strong beef,
And try, fighting for fame on these slept on streets,
While Im, signing my name in the wet concrete,
Touching both sides of your brain when I flex on beats,
And when we sound the drums, Ill see cowards hung,
When my hour comes Id rather catch a beat down than run,
Its just that honest, I dont rap for these monsters,
Id rather face the music than turn my back on you.