This had no rhythym when i typed it
off top, no beat

If you liable to spit dont do it in my presence/
cause of all the freshness, i think im the rap game's essence/
i been measured as one of the most hated rap majors/
i got 2 hands, so who's to tell me not to clap haters/
you a stranger in the field, where ya soldiers at/
i can tell if niggas is soft the way they hold the gat/
i stay strapped wit a burner and it is used for burning ya/
catch one in ya cheek, it feel worst than a hernia/
people always wonder how i spit the way im spitting/
and how i hold my balance wit the fifth that i be grippin/
and i aint talking Henny boy im talkin bout the piston/
you could hear in the next state without tryna listen/
i glisten like the gold bottle of Chrys we be sippin/
tipsy in the spot while chickens are skinny dippin/
its all real, you can even ask my pops/
he ride around in a light blue nasty drop/
windows get broken when the bass pass the block/
don't give a fuck about the law and i aint scared of the cops/
niggas turn bitch when i hit em wit a flame-torch/
got em too paranoid to even sit on they porch/
and if i can't get to you then i'll body ya mans/
cut off his hand, put a couple shots in ya van/
im in the game right now, i aim for a lot of cheese/
and if your bread is in my way, sorry but you gotta Leave
Inf Ike---Raps new Era-----lets get it popping

its thats simple