This is a song about "Knots of the kuchen tackle"

Worldwide, but i got fourth ways, one hat carry like four blades

I'll tackle fuckin' fans on stage, i spread lyrical cancer plagues,

I'm a victim of the money, of the cash in the hundreds,

I put you over my money, all of my nice kicks

The right hand of god, the left of the devil,

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Tired of the pain tired of the struggle

It's only right we lose greatness at its pinnacle

Cause america the terror of,

Play hard to get, females get jealous

You little niggas little league i'm the real thing

So if there's any midget willing to tackle the king

At this love thing toe to toe

Return of the king of flow

I pack a lip, smack a bitch, tackle her and crack her ribs

Just cause you change what you pitching, don’t make the difference