It's bic in this bitch all lighters galore,
That fire flow the finest women i adore
It's fucking dangerous the way i pick the razors up
From the homies, cuz shorty wanna be a thug
And the razors are double bladed
Everybody wasted faded, faded
Puts the pieces of decomposing bodies in plastic
And all i hear is fuckin click, all i really needs a bic
The art is razors, needles, and pins, syringes and comets,
I'm murdering instrumentals cause i rap with the conscience
Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years
Spit sicker, keep this bigger little shit lit like bic flickers,
How can niggas blame us, i am not ashamed but
Hold me down like im the light from the bic, spark me up.
Now i'm shinin in the broad, day-light - go figure
Bic her,never sicker,sticky like a sticker,
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