[ CHORUS ]
I got a lion in my pocket and it's ready to roar
Live by the sword, you die by the sword
I got a lion in my pocket and it's ready to roar
Live by the sword, you die by the sword
You ain't ready, boy, you ain't ready for this
You ain't ready, girl, you ain't ready for this
You ain't ready, boy, you ain't ready for this
You ain't ready

I got rhythm, wrapped around my little finger
Sorry chump, no mad styles a dead ringer
No way to peck cause I got eons of methods you can't touch
And thank you very much, cutthroat
Your imitation is the greatest form of flattery
As you can see, undoubtedly I behouve the masses
Classes I tutor for a fee
I give chills multiplyin and I see
I get nice, splice, be it dawn, be it dusk
I terminate feeble peasants I don't trust
I simply pencil-whip, I scrape MC's like knees
I got some planets screamin: E's the beat!
You'd wanna give me the mic
For true, brah, I know how to handle it
My pockets are swoll', bare feet can't sandal it
At sixes and sevens, I'm callin spades a spade
You can't hold a stitch to my boots of suede
You ain't ready, I keep it simple, stupid, wait your turn
You ain't ready, much to be learned

[ CHORUS ]

So predictable, damn, I slam pseudo psycho bitches
I'm diggin holes, then I'm diggin ditches
I look ahead so I don't fall behind
I'm icky-sticky, talkin short and fine
In my feet I walk a fret style camp
Tricks can't tramp, no, not in my path I park
I'm like a lyrical, lyrical, lyrical laxative
I run MC's fast asleep I walk in miles
And methods can't quit-it-it-i
I be the sound of poets on shit-it-it-i
Nobody move suckers, I see