This is a song about "Big germ on the mic i wreck it"

Cause it feels right, just spitin in the notepad and on the mic,

Everybody judging off a single i ain't even pick

In fact, lemme pass the mic to man big t"

Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free

On the mic i fight till death i'm a sick fighter

The red album, lil red shortie, you can't touch her

Im a god on the mic

So drop the slam and let's get sick

Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records

On this mic i turn satan, rappers fightin to break the horns

Going up on the mic

Pose, click, pose, click

I function with you and you flaunt your pistol

Wreck raps on tracks call it homicidal,

Calmly set the mic down and i promise i won't snatch it

I ain't your regular rapper who just be talking shit