[Verse]
Poet, OG, reshaping the picture,
Biscuit in the clutch, each bar a heat scripture.
Napalm flows, watch your daps turn to ashes,
Wannabes crumble, see careers in the crashes.
[Chorus]
Poet drops bombs, lyrics light 'em like flares,
Dust of the fakes, ain't no room for squares.
Biscuit's got the vision, OG with precision,
No sideline play, it's total evisceration.
[Verse 2]
Speakin' in flamethrower, straight torchin’ the scene,
Caught in poetic crossfire, they get roasted and creamed.
Green Beret words, bop heads to the march,
Keep the mic gripped tighter than a fist full of starch.
[Bridge]
These rappers jungle green, lost in Biscuit Vision,
Trying to dodge the heat but fall in failed missions.
You ain't on my wavelength, signal flat out dead,
Semaphore failed, took the "L" instead.
[Chorus]
Poet drops bombs, lyrics light 'em like flares,
Dust of the fakes, ain't no room for squares.
Biscuit's got the vision, OG with precision,
No sideline play, it's total evisceration.
[Verse 3]
Gettin’ painted down, these rhymes Huey in a storm,
Napalm dusk, torch scorn in southern charm.
Clickety-clack props, this pen poppin’ artillery,
Stamped-out amateurs, crushing all their soliloquys.