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(young p)
Fame is the hall I’m walking
It’s like you on mute when you’re talking
Cuz I don’t hear the shit young birds be squawking
All you hear is guns like fireworks sparking
From your 8th story apartment
You niggas stink, stop farting
My rhymes so precious I need an auction
I bite hoes on the neck, I guess I sleep in a coffin

(unknown soldier)
Ha I’m so sick it’s like I’m constantly coughing
Beating whack rappers too often
Soften their hard facades as I cause my mind to sharpen
Rip em a new one so they could blow shit out their holes like a dolphin
Lol, hah u got me chuckling and shit
I bust at fake niggas with mental guns and some clips
Got your broad sucking my dick
My dick drops till I rest my nuts on her tits
And the only time me and Bow Wow “Roll Bounce” is when I’m fucking his bitch
UGH!!!

(young p)
I ride in a whip known as a porche
Eat dead rappers like a volture
Stand taller than a sculpture
ALL ABORD!!!
I’m ready for departure
I spit hot so I can scorch ya
With the toasta
Got you pulling the white flag in
Shit so long got the polo dragging
Scarier than a komodo dragon
Your girl wants that dick stabbing in
Leave her staggering

(unknown soldier)
Man these “emcees” be bragging and acting
But when it comes to this rapping their mouths are closed like a caption
Faker than a war hero who’s never seen action
But I can make these cats bleed even redder than factions
If you divide your life in half it makes one hell of a fraction
So you search for that portion before another subtraction
I give birth to a new sound without having contractions
All I need is a dream and I can keep passionately rapping
These fagots are born as maggots who happen…
…To be the shit I wiped outta my ass with a napkin
Yo, in the sun’s glory I’m basking
On an all soul diet, mutha fuckas I’m fasting