 Let's lace the rhyme, but don't take a toke, just in case The song is too strong, take two fools and pass Smoke fumes from the mic might make you gasp For another breath, into slow death Fight to try, but you die, now who's left? Dead on the rifle, if you survive You'll remember the name, flavor unit of God You were patchy, that's me, so please stop talking I'm a walking one-man posse Step in the thin ice, flex is smooth and nice Each cut's precise, fearsome and vice I like power