This is a song about "Mcs"

Now its the birth of mcs that bask in the lime light

I used to write rhymes, all day and all night

Pictures of me in my final stage you know mama cried

I'll eat other mcs to fulfil my appetite

Microphone is a plane,mcs are pilots

A rebel tho, i dont hold my lips

Smashin giant mcs to the size of infants

And when we on the road, bitches follow the tour bus