Spitfire (The Medicine)

Listen, I'm highly trained/like/tracks for the El

to leave you slightly brained/when the pin hits/the back of the shell

I seen you under pressure/and it's a guarantee that you'll tell

Unless it's on the mic/cuz you know/ your truth wouldn't sell

When you cowards/were/in the corner shivering/I was delivering

things to your people/who was happy I was givin em

everything/from drugs to fake bills/I was printin em

I lived in sin/sold home-made-guns/to wild triggermen

Stayed scrappin/never duck /sucka/ I stay hittin em

Gimme your best mc/I guarantee/I'll tear em limb from limb

You niggas in the booth now/then/makin bad decisions when

you hit the streets/you get beat/but you have no rhythm and

my shit/stays-on-point/like murder witnesses

from the beginning man/I got better timing than a pendulum

I LOVE the presidents/but I'd rather have the Benjamins

You phonies think you sick/but my lyrics is the medicine (I'm the veteran)

(Chorus)

I gotta/spit fire/cuz my shit's flier/than yours

you're just a/quick liar/now your bull-shit is deferred

My quips fire/in spite of/everything that you heard

It's because my wit's higher/that my shit is preferred

(verse)

 

Dawg, you couldn't kill if your name was brain cancer

You better off tryin to be one of those fame dancers

Get away from the speakers, man/I'm throwin flames atcha

my lyrics are poison for tame rappers/that are sweeter than cake batter

Hidin behind your boys/until they're leakin their brain matter

When was the last time you made bones/or veins/ shatter

I make/days blacker/cock back/and blaze clappers

I never had a Benz/but that chick/I May-bach her

I stain slackers/and leave niggas wet/like rain splatter

Ya'll homos/ain't badder/than Q-Heff/I'm way madder

than any goon/or crazed hatter/ya'll ain't of the same stature

Put you in/pain faster/than any jake/or fake rapper

You'll have your face plastered/on the front page/bastard

I take fatter/ liqs/than any champagne passer

higher than/a plane crasher/my range/you can't match it

With lames/I stay clashin/cuz it's only on pages they raise 'matics (it was my habit)

(Chorus)

 

(It stays happenin) Bitch-niggas/I don't know what to tell you

You can't/get wit my lyrics/now you sittin in peril

Spittin the sterile/sin in forbidden riddems wit the written apparel

I'm the herald/hotter than the silencer that's fittin your barrel

Witness the arrows/moving suckas from their ride/to the sky with the sparrows

I'm fittin to narrow/the margin/ between me/and your fav-or-ite hero

It's in my marrow/hip- hop/and liftin spirits like a Christ-a-mas carol

It's no error that I made it through this era I'm feral