Murder, he wrote

(It's murder, he wrote)
(It's murder, he wrote)
(It's murder, he wrote)

Dressed in designer
A couple commas on me
And tickin' timers
For rhymers
Who think they got it on me
Keepin' it Everclear
You niggas drunker than a skunk
I do this every year
Pumpin' these lyrics
When they hear it
Play it for yo peers
And I made this shit
To save the streets
And all they fuckin' ears
But I leave em shook like
Headlights to these fuckin' deers
Cause over here
You gotta fight without a fear
And that's the realest shit you'll hear
No incompleted tasks
Niggas get deleted fast
Triggers be squeezin'
Niggas bleedin'
From this pen and pad
And I'm something lethal
Like a weapon
The prophet to you niggas
Flow get evil
And I reckon
Niggas call upon the reverend
Or the deacon
The pastor
The whole congregation
Put two fingers in the game
And start a whole conversation
Check it
No time to wait
I cultivate
At different frequencies
And they tried to speak to me Frequently
But I pushed past
And I push past
To the back of my mind
Not lettin niggas infiltrate
Or take a piece of this shine
Nigga this mine
And I'ma stand 10 toes
Cause who knows
Them niggas waitin' for a moment
Just to put on a show
Them niggas dozing
While I'm writin'
Like Derozan in the 4th
I'm puttin heat up in this bitch
Just like he heatin' up the court
Let the graces be amazing
I collect these honors
Painted a picture for niggas
Who always keep it honest
I don this creed
My prophecy
It stretch a million miles
They always say
That on the way
You see a million smiles
They never say
That they gon speak yo name
Into the ground
Just elevate
Never wait on niggas
That keep you down
Murder I'm writing
But this pen
Is made to save the masses
You want the sauce
I'ma dish it
Just like the master classes
Them niggas soft
But my finger harder
Than all they asses
You get the point
I'm just pickin'
At all you trash rappers
Don't see the purpose
If all of you niggas half assin'
I swear thats ass backwards
Them niggas get up on the beat
And spit like mad max
No syntax or no verbiage
They words don't hit
The same as mine
I paint the skies
In every line
I make the sword
Them niggas dying
He thank the lord
I shake his mind
Smoke his ass
Like turpentine
Lead you niggas
Down the line
And show they ass
Like summertime