[Instrumental Intro]
I Self Divine in this motherfucker
[Chorus]
I feel like a matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
[Verse]
I was a fiend
I used to twist bags of trees
Use the bitch
About to smack you with a bag of bees
We watch you scream
Mark it up as a casualty
Plan the hit, and walk away casually
I'm on some shit, I'm losin it gradually
I'm a bastard with no father and no family
Overlord, stab niggas with a rusty sword
Stillborn, choke off the umbilical cord
You got rocks and I'm standin in a glass house
It's your move but instead these niggas pass out
You ain't built for this, livin in your mom's house
Claimin you gangster, but you chaps with the ass out
Let's keep it real when it's time get gully
This no part time, commit to it fully
The means disconnect from kids and reality
I'm in town but I treat her like I'm overseas
Let's get stupid ignorant to the utmost
That means anywhere, anytime the buck flows
Rap battles used to be where you walk and live
It got gruesome now they talkin' bout your mom and kids
I lived a life, seen niggas truly lose they life
I made the sacrifice, left in the nick of time
With drive-bys in broad daylight, now is that right?
If it's on I can't return to my normal life
I seen niggas that I'd know were snitches and hoes
Flip the script and get thugged in they street clothes
Now I ask is it real or just actin'
Or gettin' punked all your life and start snappin'
It ain't a problem 'till it's made mine
Facepaint grab your helmet cause it's game time
I'm a cool, calm nigga and I know where my power is
I know my weakness
And what I can kill it real quick
The damage to your ego is a stepping stool
For self respect issues
See, you's a speck
I go berserker
On makin' fuckin' shoes
A Talibangelist frantically planning schemes
To block and split the scene
With a tube sock full of hemlock
Sippin kirin ichiban
Seein' CNN is on
Peepin' Patriot Actually lower class
Fuck a [?]
I went from poverty to lower lower class
To lower class to upper lower class
To gettin' past the bullshit
Same fuckin pants and skippin class no bullshit
Punk Rock livin the Clash, the misfit
Mr. Meticulous, slickin sick with the syllabus
Spittin the dust
Polish it enough to keep them listening to us
Precision is a plus
But honesty's a must for Emily Blood to beat
The speakers til they bust through
We got style that's rust-proof
Flat black over tarmac
Get a grip, mate
You motherfuckers need a nappy
You know you toss and turn tryin to sleep on me
So cut the crap and
It happens every time
(Swear, if I had a dime)
See, I'm lookin' for peace of mind, you're looking for a dime piece
To give you mind
You're on some bad dad shit
You and for real using echo like some bunny men
I press on, I'm beat harder than step songs
I treat father like each one of his last sons
A whole lotta nada
My soul's hella hot
I stay loaded like cannon fodder
Aimed at you prima donnas
I oughta slap the fuckin' face right off your head
I play the matador instead
[Chorus]
I feel like a matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop ([?])
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop ([?])
One plate breaks another gets put right in it's place
I feel like a matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
A matador chasing bull in a China shop
One plate breaks another gets put right in it's place
