Hook
This is for the stars and the glitz
In the clubs & the bars getting ripped..
When you stumble to your car don't trip
*gun shots* I got 16 bars in a clip!

This is for them rappers tap dancing like Sambo..
Every other verse dude sounding like Rambo..
But his guns be empty when he steps out the both though..
Better duck! Got 16 bars in a clip!

Verse 1
I'm something like a biochemist, with mic chemistry
Hype energy at night glisten like light energy, like
Christ ministry write scriptures that's quite vivid
Find wifey in a brothel with the gospel like Tye Tribbet
See, even when I'm lite with it whether sandscripted
Or hieroglyphics, I'm the man with it on the mic gifted
Rhyme tighter than vice grip hold, flow colder
Than ice Guinness or a colder shoulder from wifey pissed
I'm so nice when I write you think I'm nicer
Than Kendrick, or writing for Kendrick when I write I paint through mics a picture
I'm a nice lyricist, write sentences & craft visuals
And send kites to prisoners to revisit our child friendships
There one god, I'm one man, need one mic
If hip hop is a queen I go hard until she cums twice
I'm dumb nicer than half of your favorite artists
Whom I target when I load up a clip full of bars...

Verse 2
See, I'm a go to the Chi & I'm a stop a young man
And replace that blam blam with a mic in his hands
But before you can start engaging in target practice
Gotta clean his weapon first before he could start rapping
Strengthen his seventh Chakra and purify his heart
Then he can put it on his waist then pull it out in the park
And spit every 2 hours, because words equal power
Turn jokers into kings & even embolden cowards
Into warriors strong enough to lead lost souls
In darkness at crosswords you can shine bright star
Even if he never sings or heavily marketed
His existence is god sent, with the flow he's a modern day Martin
Like Van Gogh or Picasso, encompass the art with
Culture, while avoiding menages with Nicki on star ships
Plus he sent many rappers to God.. yeah..
When loaded up his clip full of bars..

Verse 3
I'm like an ancient artifact that's aiming the verbal
Ratchet, my art of rapping is part accurate to target practice
When I'm starving I'm clapping the other half is a tactic
For Cards in the Vatican, spit Da Vinci art for the Catholics, God!
There's not a rapper in my state worth the debate
My notebook is a fully loaded clip in a .38
I'm putting every rapper on notice, mention me in a rhyme
I'm raising the death toll for those dissing Devine
Fans demand truth, it cost more
I look in your eyes I see fear, Rookie Of The Year? I Cam Newton your sophomore
First shoot! <---- is my art of war, but never the 9 mil
Instead rhyme real, students pay attention to the chalkboard
My insane flow hops on the train then a boat, then dock
Then move like a strike lightening of Husein Bolt, flock
Of chickens are easy to kill because they stay where they are
While an eagle soars and loads his clip full of bars

Verse 4
I'm a king on a throne I don't spar with lieutenants
Or Argue with constituents I just Slipping them barbiturates
In this art of lyrics spit Devine is a barbarian
Huey P Newton for Halloween sparring with Aryan
Bars tremendous from a car tented, targets split them
Like a marksman with 16 bars in a clip...