MASTERS

First name Jon Middle name Patric Boy I flame tracks Like a box of matches I never lost any One my matches I never wear a shirt Unless my Invicta matches Hand speed matchless I'm Floyd meets Cassius I wish I was a slave So I can go back and Hang all the slave masters Right beside my Masters Right beside my Bachelor's My Associate's and Ph.D Doctor 'B' A.K.A. Mr. Cock and Squeeze I'm deep like Dr. Sebi meets Socrates I'm so deep Like twenty thousand leagues Under the sea Who wanted with me You end up six feet Under my sneaks The Jordan three Footprints all over your cheek Your teeth All over the street Looking like Donald Duck After I just shot off his beak Prepare for release of the beast I wish I was a slave So I can go back and Hang all the slave masters Right beside my Masters Right beside my Bachelor's My Associate's and Ph.D Doctor 'B' I wish I was a slave So I can go back and Hang all the slave masters Right beside my Masters Right beside my Bachelor's My Associate's and Ph.D Doctor 'B' Of course, I'm the best It's part of my last name Put your body in a cast Put your latest picture In a nice little frame On your mommy window pane With R.I.P. Above your name My pen game Been flame When I snap It's endgame R.I.P. Tony Starks I took my du-rag off And I saw Noah's Ark Riding my waves Between two sharks It's not a game It's a shame When you get beat down By the gang that you claim You faking for fame TSS Homie you lame Don't bro me You don't know me And if you know me You know I'm shooting every time like Kobe When I post like Malone with the Glock I'm like Shaq on the block I will make your life fade away like M.J. With the last-second shot From the Heckler and Koch