This is a song about "Gripping the mic"

Intricate visions within when i'm sitting gripping the pen

Arguably retarded cause after sex we stop again

I dropped another classic

Going up on the mic

There's a million names for your kind of chronic

When i'm the master of events n' master the mic

I see ya hands gripping the mic,

If his bitch insist on getting sick

I get my cake; i love hip hop

I bust on the mic nonstop

Didn't know her but i'm confirming that she sure gurgled dick

Everything freezes, soon as i touch the mic

Snipers on the mic again,

Bad hoes i'm seen with them

Ready, steady and setting fire to the mic/

Just like a cannon from the teen in nick