Overdose - DJ Screw, K Rino

Duck from the swing of the knife

Where the righteous mind state elevates to eternal life

Message to the black man, Federal Express

Plus I’m Bruce Lee, thoughts to the chest, may he rest

In a box made of pine ‘cause he ate the swine

Time to design a new rhyme, count the massacres in every line

Damage to equipment, vocal onslaught

Two or three microphones testified in the court

That I broke ‘em when I choked them and left them in the base

Same cases, all the ignorant individuals that I face

Over the years with my Black Book, dropping a radical quote

Rhymes equivalent to a Tyson punch with brass knuckles to your throat

When I state, «God made me great,» I slash and then I wait

To crush the type of men I hate, they choke then hyperventilate

We playing a game but ain’t no rest from blocking your right using your left

By dissing the master you’re choosing your death

I’m sort of like this ‘cause I’m losing my breath, what?

I get it right back and give a brain scan

I’m a planet, you just a piece of a grain of sand

Who can compare with me when the overdose is done?

I saw one a million years back, but he the closest one

No pork, no beef, let me make that clear

I don’t smoke the weed or drink the beer

I was taught by a genius to the tenth power

I devour at ten million miles an hour