!Fatal Content!

In the concrete jungle, they labeled me a soldier
I live Kostra Nostra, these niggas are chocha
They aint even coming close to my verbal style
Stuck with 1 track minds- while I'm versatile
U think ur similar 2 me? U aint half as wild
Want a face 2 the streets, I'm the poster child
Fatal Chico is fire- so give me some credit
If the punchline was raw- then u know that I said it
These little niggas aren't lyricists- these boys are pathetic
Ony thing they should be rapping are christmas presents
I'm the opposite of weak and equivalent of death
U could call my flow asthma- I'm taking ur breath
I'm a lyrical disaster in verbal combat
I'll treat a nigga like a plasma- leave his ass flat
I dont rap about guns when I choose 2 spit it
Only time they touch caps is when there buying a fitted
Me and Content- really cant see those those fakes
I keep it G' like Pacino in Carlito's Way
I'm a Chico- I listen 2 the guidos play
I'm a cash money brother, the Nino way
It'll be okay, I'm putting rap in it's place
The hardest thing 2 hit Miami- since the movie Scarface
I don't hesitate at all when I seek and destroy
I'm feeeling like Mike Jackson- a man amongst boys
A little bit annoyed off this shit that I hear
A bunch of trash on a CD infecting my ears
I don't even pay mind 2 these niggas on the market
There nothing but garbage- an easy target
All that tough man talking is totally irrelevant
I'm nothing 2 fuck with- but I'm not selobent
It's evident 2 see- I'm the Fatal type
So I stay with a blade like I'm Wesley Snipes, nigga!