I came, I come,
Heavy as a gun,
You want my rhymes? You gonna get some,
Your rhymes are big,
Mine much bigga,
Holding the trigga is a real bad nigga,
I came to win ya, & I will,
Holding still, while you get ill,
That is mean, & mean is that, MC's are the ball, Im the cricket bat,
Each word is a bullet, the gun is a page,
There aint no stage I cant rampage,
You hear my rhyme, It cuts in time
UK Posse infront, the rest behind,
Spread this energetically, rough & poetically,
This MC is born free! Peace!