Let's get less serious with this next one. If you're remotely within my age group you sat in your bro's room and rocked this while playing the original PlayStation Jet Moto, the original gran turismo, or twisted metal.
Exhibit level degree on the mic, passionately
****az is sweet so I bet if I bit I'd get a cavity
Livin to get high, you ain't flyer than gravity
We Die Hard like the battery done in the back of me by the mad MC
who think imitation is the highest form of flattery, actually
Don't be mad at me, I had to be the one to break it to you
You get kicked into obscurity like judo, no Menudo
cause you pseudo, tryin to compete with reality like Xerox
Towards destruction you spiraling like hairlocks, wipe them teardrops
Chasing stars in your eyes, playing games with your lives
Now the wives is widows soakin up pillows, weepin like willows
Still mo' blacks is dyin, kids ain't livin they tryin
_How to Make a Slave_ by Willie Lynch is still applyin
Regardless, the Mos is one of my closest partners
Rockin ever since before Prince was called The Artist
Rocker before Funkmaster Flex was rockin Starter
When 'Pac and Biggie was still cool before they was martyrs
Life or death, if I'm choosin with every breath I'm enhancin
Stop, there comes a time when you can't run