Chyea, chyea, chyea, chyea, chyeeea!
Are you down with Zuby?
OK, check it, yo, yo
I’m your momma’s favourite rapper...
She said I’m the next Eminem
I told her I was blacker
They say image is a factor...
I just grew out my beard
I’m not a terrorist attacker
But if you’re talking wordplay I’m the summit of a threat
Spit and leave these haters running like their stomach is upset
And it’s peak with no Imodium, left leaning on linoleum
Guess you could say I tear a bum apart like I’m Napolean
That’s a vacancy, wit with no complacency
Take my talent graciously and kill these records gracefully
Fans are daily rating me, couple people hating me
But wouldn’t say I’ve made it till these groupies dream of raping me
Pardon that fans I’m on a mission to get bigger
So mentally and physically I train to be a winner
Percy Miller with the vision there’s no limit to my vigour
I’m a smart black man don’t ever take me for a…