At the centre, it's The Inventor of this Art-of-Rap/
Korea-Crook; I'm da Genuine Artefact
MC's know I spit Godly-Rap/ I gave
INCA a heart-attack like "Oh my God-he's-back"
It's da Return Of The King, y'all thought I was Aragorn/
Son of Arathorn but I'm more like Louis Farrakhan
Supreme Rap Athlete; I sprint thru ya Marathon/
Wid no effort like my main man Paragon
The Prime Minister of Rap, ask Pete-Nice/
You fake rappers stick together like cheap-rice
You spit-crap, challengin' me? You'll getya wig-cracked/
Cops all around you like "Yeses who did-that?"
Ya family'll get kidnapped, microphones I split-dat/
Wid sick-rap, I'm suttem like Vin Diesel in Pitch-Black
You'll get-scarred f***in' wid me, tryin' 'a' get-large?/
Dat's impossible, dat's like Nelly tryin' 'a' spit-bars
Or better yet dat's like 50 Cent tryin' 'a' diss-Nas/
If we don't get-ours we gon' come back an' hit-hard
Split-cigars, put ya a** in, throw some weed-on/
Wrap you up, grab da microphone; turn da heat-on
You'll be-gone, it's a bet I'll put my unborn seed-on/
Coz I'm dat big dog, you dat tree geetin' peed-on
It's Chemistry, to ease da pain give you Hennessy/
Escort ya a** from da Gateway to da Cemetary
It's elementary I do this very often/ INCA you'll
Get softened, I'll lay you in ya coffin
As rhymes hit you widda force of fifteen-snipers/
I'll dust ya a** off like windscreen-wipers
Stop shittin' on yaself go grab some clean-diaphers/
INCA you ain't shit I'll eat you IN BETWEEN-cyphers
I'm from da Cape Flats where da streets-are-rough/
You lil' faggot you lucky I 'on't beat-you-up
Strap grenades to ya skull an' just blow-ya-mind/
I'm a Pro-wid-rhymes, INCA you're so-behind
Ya flow's-shitty I represent Da Mo(ther)-City/
I'm laid-back, ya whole style stays-wack
Roach Inc stays-black, me? I stay-blacker/
Admit it you stole ya style from da Gay-Rapper
You's basic, face-it I'm in a league-of-my-own/
I'm The Kingpin takin' up my seat-in-da-thrown
Which one 'a' y'all punks-ca'-test-me?/ INCA you
Couldn't spit "bars" if you was munchin'-on-a-"Nestle"
I got three words for you; "yo-stop-frontin'"
Son, I'll beat you up like you stole-suttem
Coz on da real, I've been sparkin'-MC's/You know-Crook
Got INCA so-shook, you thought he had Parkinson's-Disease
I got homey holdin'-his-breath, bitin'-his-lip/
Now da only-thing-left is for me to tighten-my-grip
An' just get stuck-in-this-hater/ INCA it's like
You castrated coz you ain't f***in'-wid-Seida
How da hell you gon' defeat-me/ When you're
MC "Jules Verne" "20,000 Leagues" beneath-me
Get da f*** outta here
