Kleptomaniac)



Lyrical wizardry dances on MC's like Murray on SC's

Never flaunt now motherfuckers come test me

Burnin everybody hotter than torches at Jamaican parties

Far from angels niggas can't see me like Charlie

Style weak? Hardly!

Don't let the wacked persue you like Marley

JM clique moves in packs like whities on Harleys

Niggas get injured fucked do' in 40 fingers

Got bitches by bike bar bussin Glocks off a' niggas

Klep don't give three shits to flip scripts

Miss bullets from clips, leave niggas rollin up skateboards

wit nuttin under they hips, bitch, so if you test me

shit gets messy, bustin .38 speci

outta paper bags like Joe Pesci

Yo, you know the tune

Make sure bitches don't eat when it's time to shit out them coke balloons

Balked up the ninja when it got shady, now I got grown ladies

bustin .380's outta E Class Mercedes



(Hurry the fuck up bitchm, get on!)

(Fuck you motherfucker let me out this L)

(There they go right there, dot them niggas)

(Motherfuckers!! *gun shots*)



MC's get cut like glass, cut like glass

Rag tagged and crash, hemp bags, come save dat ass

Who wanna get broke the fuck up? Tell me!

Freakin vocabulary like Chinese and spelling bees

T-P-E-L-K held to reflect a device-es

The nicest, Jesus Christ-es

Junior Mafioso, niggas get torn off head to torso

Bullets evacuated out windows

From Hekkyl and Coch, P7 inmates

Extra .380 on a string 'round my neck cos feds check the waist

No time to waste, grab the loot and escape before next break

Heads are clockin, private eyes are watchin

Nigga caught up in the hustle

Fuck flippin packages and tyin up, minx and rings I bubble

Trouble's what I look for in stores on expensive floors

Beeling boots is essence, bookin Pelle's in my drawers

Armani, Gianni Versace, V2

lost count o' all the little sections me and mans ran thru

It ain't hard to discard cans of mace on guards

leave them bitch ass niggas screamin like a fuckin retard

Lyrically I come off like ink alarms

Got styles under the wing like spread is booked under my arms

Niggas couldn't see me with closed circuit TV

tryin to peep my steez, like DT's I get over like I'm fifteen



(Hey, you're not fifteen)

I'm fifteen, what?

(What do you think we are? Assholes or somethin?)

Fuck you! Soundin like that nigga from Night Court

Loose my cuffs I'm outta here!



MC's be fake like toupes so I transplant

Implant my fist to their face makin their skin red

Soundwaves disrupted, they fucked, kid

Airholes bloody rupted but that ain't nuttin

The best is yet to come

MC's get strung like heads on drums

They don't be knowin what I'm knowin

Flowin like I'm flowin

Makin motherfuckers take nose dives like 747 Boeings

Obnoxious beef's squashes face-to-face

Niggas get wet up like Alasha's on Klep's place

Thru the hard time sayin prayers committin crimes

Sick minds don't care, rockin parties from front to rear

Brains engulfed by ferocious ???

runnin up on Big wit Lex wit nappies doused with chloroforms

Livin in a world where you do what you must

If preachers be robbin niggas who the fuck can you trust