Who Am I

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FMA + 12 Gage

2:58

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Beat you to death with a coat hanger
I ain't a pastor preachin' rapture, nah, I'm a mad rapper
Impressed, I guess yes, the best in the North West, they offer no contest
God, 12 Gage you just pissed off the copycat craze - I'm burnin' bridges
Try trainin', you'll need it
All I need is a pen 'n' paper for you to fear me
Wavin' the world goodbye, 'cos I'm surrounded by the mimics
You'll need defibrillatin', silver tongue with serrated saliva
'Cos when I spit, people get cut up, from the gut up
Not the waist, never waste a single lyric
Inflate 'em, I'll deflate 'em until they say, Death's late
Anger's surgin', hurtin' 'em worse than a drunk surgeon in urban clothin', I lie I'm Californian
Any corner I'm ownin' 'em
I'm an optimist in his prime
Nowt's stoppin' this rhyme
So step into the hip-hop fight club with a kung fu tongue twist
I'm the Lee, Chan 'n' Norris of this shit
12 Gage, more like a dozen gits
Took a hundred hits, with wounded wrists
I'm anonymous 'n' the seraphim are singin, a lingerin' lyric
Rap's darkest fears reanimated, so fear it
All I hear are pop hits 'bout gyratin' hips
Ha, salute 'n' salutations, dicks

I set the standard you aspire to, desire to rise to, set the fire to empires 
Slay the liars with barbed wire 'n' pliers
Sent by Gaia to annihilate 'n' spit hellfire, burn you in a pyre
Are you mad you admire me, tired of me
This differently wired mind of mine, that I will mine 'n' mine for rhythms
I'm given, I'm spittin', like a man that doesn't have much time to be alive
The minutes are tickin' away, pickin' 'n' rippin' away
Seconds are missin', I listen 'n' wish they were given again
Hold up a second, I got a confession
I'm here for one reason, to leave an impression
My footprint on your face
Step back, make way
I'm here to teach you a lesson, one you got no chance of forgetting
You can call me Sir, kneel down 'n' begin begging
I'm an old boy, brought back from the dead by an old boy
You can keep your money, I create to destroy boy
It's the host 'n' his apprentice reinvented
It's the same old voice, but a brand new noise
Doom, doom, the lord of addiction's in the room
Boom, boom, listen to the cowards flee, chaos ensues
Soon you'll see the wicked one
It's Matt the Spitter, Jack the Ripper's sickest son, spittin' on
Doom, doom, look out I'm in the room
Boom,boom, I'll leave you in your tomb, 'n' soon
You'll see the wicked one
It's Matt the Spitter, Jack the Ripper's sickest son, spittin' on

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