[Intro]

God I think the world is about to collapse! C’mon!
 The buildings and walls are are falling
 If you don’t know, you should by now
 It’s the [bad word] Snowgoons in the building
 And you’re rocking with Singapore Kane and Slaine
 It’s 2008, dummy

[Verse 1: Slaine]

All eyes are staring at me, people watching the villain
 They see my rising with the rebels to the top of the building
 Being stuck down at the bottom is the vilest feeling
 Desolate soul for vodka that’s swilling, popping the pilling
 Jealously swirling in their eyes, they’re plotting to kill em
 But I been there and believe me, I ain’t forgotten the feeling
 I lived the dark nights and heard the pain crash from the ceiling
 I mean the raindrops hang in ‘caine spots with dealers
 Now fighting a different war, smoking less, sniffing more
 Every week a different chore, every month a different tour
 I got a gang of haters everyday I [bad word] em off a little more
 Whatchu think I got a [bad word] pistol for?
 Jealousy’s a disease that affect my enemies
 They’re scheming while they’re sipping on the Hennessy
 Me, I’m overseas making G’s like I stick banks
 Rocking mics, sniffing foreign coke out of Swiss francs
 [bad word] x 2]

We bring the devastation, never a moment of hesitation
 When we smash your face and leave your blood pasted upon the pavement
 The sons of Satan, keeping [bad word]  [bad word] the debating
 Whatchu talking about? You weak, our fury is full of hatred

[Verse 2]

It’s no benefits trying to test me and my affiliates
 Soon as you consider it we smack dudes illiterate
 Sidestep the petty [bad word]  forever it’s a militant’s mission
 To get the cheese and stretch it like mozzarella sticks
 Test me, I’m ready, my girl got my machete
 And she’s ready to cut your throat like Chequeta in Belly
 You as hard as a rock, now you sweeter than jelly
 No one believes the [bad word] that you spit on the telly
 Despite how you live your looks I’ll never play by the books
 The silent kid in the room is really the biggest crook
 Pulling out the biggest jux, fill every cranny and nook
 Fight to the death with guns and knives and left hooks
 Dudes talk the talk but they don’t walk any similar
 We’ll separate your soul from your body like oil and vinegar
 High off the sticky, insane when I’m sober
 Spit poison in my verse like killer cobra

[Verse 3]

The style raw, kick [bad word] like its sting’ll crack your face
 This demonic place, ditched me in [bad word] what I create
 This here rhyme squad, some of mine is gone with the wind
 I’m better than half you rappers who faking it like pretend
 To the end I’mma murder this, MC’s keep on observing this
 I hear you bite my [bad word] and they’re gonna find you where the murder was
 I kick it ill sick twisted acapella when I rock a fella
 Rolling with dime [bad word] and [bad word] inhalers
 My rhyme is torture, slowly pulling out your guts
 While your whole body soaked in alcohol and paper cuts
 Then the knife slides into your right thigh
 You think you might die, you right, you see the visions of your life fly
 Right past you, my clique’ll really bash you
 Into your skull then suck your brains out like a vacuum
 My backroom is filled with goons and street thugs
 Killers hate love, sweeten you coward and pull a straight thug
 [bad word] x 2]