(Chorus) Don’t test my patience unless you ready to sleep, Couple shells from the metal gon’ sweep the street, That smoke lift souls, make the heavens weep, Ain’t no map for the place where your ghost gon’ be, You got a price on your head for that debt you keep. (Verse 1 – 32 Bars) See, I ping a location, your code exposed, You facetime danger till your signal froze. Anonymous hands with anonymous plans, I move silent through servers and contraband lands. I’m the architect—plot twist in a plot thick, Step wrong, get boxed quick, optic toxic. Dust trail follow my coat like prophecy, Every step seismic—geometry mockery. Shake the continent, fold the map, If I bend the globe, the poles collapse. Model chick center stage, centerfold fame, Bury foes where the center folds name. Stock drop, stomach pop, your torso bend, Paper turn red when the ledger end. No fake daps—keep your counterfeit peace, If I gamble your life, I’m the house, capiche? See I press on lead like designer ink, You press your luck till your spirit shrink. Numbers rise like the debt you owe, I collect respect when the interest grow. Run up close, let one fly, Aim true, left eye—no alibi. Mafioso metrics, my math precise, Colombian cuts, Dominican ice. Pawn for the gold, I appraise with pain, Diamond vein in the blood that stain. Fold once, you remain a bluff, Table turn rough, your reflection scuffed. I’m poker-faced with a razor grin, The chips all in when the blade begin. (Chorus) Don’t test my patience unless you ready to sleep, Couple shells from the metal gon’ sweep the street, That smoke lift souls, make the heavens weep, Ain’t no map for the place where your ghost gon’ be, You got a price on your head for that debt you keep. (Verse 2 – 32 Bars) I crack crowns like ancient jars, Let a blade arc slow, leave a sacred scar. Cut samurai calm, cold discipline art, Fish food float where the ripples start. Owe me once, your budget sliced, Hundred short? Then your funds get iced. Pump action choir, lungs collapse, Every verse I pen autopsy tracks. Vivid in the diction, depiction fatal, I paint death scenes with encrypted fables. Fake gun talk, all vocal static, I speak real steel—automatic graphic. Every time I pray, a vulture fall, Strike serpents, I don’t crawl. See, a circle of squares get boxed and framed, Infrared sight put a dot on aim. Shapes in scope, see the pattern align, Geometry murder, design divine. Romanian drum, Bavarian stock, Optic glow violet, precision lock. Click-brrah—sound colder than cryo glass, Freeze time when the beam gon’ flash. Leave relics carved in obsidian text, Mayans whisper what the gods expect. No flowers—bring vinyl plates, Spin my name at the reaper’s gates. Bury me deep where the silence hums, Underneath vaults that housed the bombs. I’m frost-blood, my pulse metallic, Every breath drawn out cinematic. (Chorus) Don’t test my patience unless you ready to sleep, Couple shells from the metal gon’ sweep the street, That smoke lift souls, make the heavens weep, Ain’t no map for the place where your ghost gon’ be, You got a price on your head for that debt you keep. (Verse 3 – 32 Bars) My code encrypted in the ash of kings, I rhyme with the rhythm that the furnace sings. Born from a cipher of smoke and war, Every metaphor a mirrored scar. Tactician tongue with a mafioso creed, I plant verses like I plant a seed. Watch ‘em bloom into blood and truth, Every petal proof of the pain I choose. I’m the calm in the riot, the math in the gunfire, I draft your fate like a legal wire. Cross my path, see a requiem spark, I conduct death like I’m leading an ark. My words weigh tons, titanium lexicon, Every letter a weapon drawn. I’m surgical—cut syllables clean, Each line meaner than it first seem. Balance of poetry, violence, art, Michelangelo coded in a villain’s heart. I teach patience to the reaper’s blade, Even time freeze when my verse displayed. Feds trace shells, not metaphors, They can’t decode how the cadence wars. I’m the ghost in the smoke of your final breath, Blueprints drawn in the ink of death. Every sin I speak turn carbon black, My bars eclipse—no light intact. When the drums go quiet, the silence loud, That’s my name carved deep in the cloud. (Chorus – Final) Don’t test my patience unless you ready to sleep, Couple shells from the metal gon’ sweep the street, That smoke lift souls, make the heavens weep, Ain’t no map for the place where your ghost gon’ be, You got a price on your head for that debt you keep.
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