What — текст песни (Esham)

It`s the inventor, the wicked ice cold as the winter
As niggaz enter
The dragon, the 44 got my pants saggin`
For all the whucka bring the paddy wagon
The terminator, the bitch ass nigga eliminator
The suicide comtemplator
For your dillusions I bring wicked, that`s illusions
To cause mass confusion
I be the nigga bucka, the hood-rat and tittie bar bitch fucka
Got niggaz screamin` what the fuck, see when
I`m down with Lord Majai and we both yellin` die
Die nigga, we comin` for ya
You wanna fresh style lemme show ya
Bitch, verbally ya never hearda the
U-N-H-O-L-Y `cause I`m hellified

I insist, real life suicidalist
And for this I`m a white man`s terrorist
I never miss when I squeeze the chrome in my fist
My style will make your ass drink a glass of piss
High roller, money folder
Underground rap radio controller
The bone breaker, the thug shaker
From here to Cleveland, nigga run run
To catch the dum-dums
Dumb-ditty dum, do-wa-ditty
Esham, I`m from Detroit city
I flip more tactics than acrobatics
Do hat tricks with propolactics
Unholy, that`s what my momma told me
Now I do all my dirt by my lonely
And most niggaz wanna kill you while you slangin` ki`s
I clock dollars while they catch Z`s
Nigga what

This one right here, this one goes out to.....