From the top
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up when I'm talking to you
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
I'm about to br—
Wasn't that fun?
Let's try something else
Forty-five caliber killa
But out of the philla-dela-thrilla
Show ya'll brothas how you not a guerilla
Smooth talking,
Fully automatic weapon concealer
Taste thriller, great fillers
Hit 'em with the bounce filler
Filthy stinking, standing on solid ground
And still be sinking, submerging in the Parks
Still be Linkin,
Pluck beef when it starts
But fuck your thinking, it's not a mirage
I rip the motherfuckin' track up from out the garage
Where I'm hip to the duck, but it's hard to dodge
In the back of that spine where my darts is lodged
Thought flippin' straight up, rippin' apart your squad
X-Ecutioner style, that cuts and blends
Like a syringe, we bangin' you in each of your limbs
See me coming through the party hard without no bodyguard
Smoking something, stomping on each of your Timbs
I'm the B-to-the-L, the A, the C, K
And when it comes to planning the Thought, keep thinking that
Shut up [8x]