This life’s too short, and the paper chase is hectic.
Smoking hydroponic got me, narcoleptic.
Jersey driving thru streets, on back of a four wheeler.
The nine will make niggas dance, like M. J.’s Thriller.
I stitch words together, like Plato or Aristotle.
While flying through life with no regrets, full throttle.
Sippin on a bottle, of Grey Goose and apple juice.
Cue me up in the booth, watch the beast get loose.
Vinum gets busy, have u dizzy like Gillespie.
In Miami, macking on girls, riding jet skis.
Who got next please, there’s no one after me.
I’m Alpha and Omega, of the Milky Way Galaxy.
I remember sleeping on floors, with roaches and rats.
Now I spit sixteens, for no less than five racks.
If u got it, then I’m wit, come holla at cha boy.
I’ll drop a missile on the track, set for seek and destroy.

“Witness the sickness.
Witness the sickness, lyrical fitness.
I burn mc’s to ashes with the quickness.
Mix “Mr. Poizonous” from different song.

I kick it with gun clappers, backpack rappers, and students in school.
Moving solo, from popo, who think the choke hold is cool.
Young American from the savage land, of drug lords and bagged grams.
Where cats use their grandmother, to pull off insurance scams.
Living off the land, hustling hand to hand from bar stools.
Nice with the hammer, and I’m not talking carpenter tools.
Tyger Vinum’s no fool, so stayed strapped like seat belt.
A .38 snub and a few slugs, that could make any beef melt.
Played the hand I was dealt, and with street smarts became a winner.
Like sheep in a Tiger’s den, all opposition was dinner.
Born sinner, catch me buck naked, swinging from the rafters.
Then I can, make a person disappear, like a body snatcher.
Lyrical rapture, is captured, in Vinum’s lines and bars.
These whack rappers get laughter, cuz they be trying too hard.
I do me, it looks easy, cuz every verse burns like ether.
I’m trained to spit flames of pain, like a circus fire breather.

“Witness the sickness.
Witness the sickness, lyrical fitness.
I burn mc’s to ashes with the quickness.
Mix “Mr. Poizonous” from different song.

Don’t get shit twisted, I’m young, black and gifted.
Used to get lifted, on coke and hash.
It gave my brain shakes, and swallowed my cash.
While partying with these hoes, from Reggae Sun splash.
But that’s the past, now I’m focused on my future.
Pulling ill stunts, like motocross manoeuvres.
You wanna take a photo, come here let me shoot’cha.
The tool in my hand, is guaranteed to move ya.
The flash you see, will be, bright like a camera.
Make your face start leaking, like lines of mascara.
Cats got blurry vision, but death makes it clearer.
Fracture their frame, like looking in a broken mirror.
I know a chick that’ll French kiss, the gun muzzle.
Then she’ll put you in a box, like a Sudoku puzzle.
Real rap a little fiction, she kills to feed addictions.
I control with herbs and pills, like a dark magician.

“Witness the sickness.
Witness the sickness, lyrical fitness.
I burn mc’s to ashes with the quickness.
Mix “Mr. Poizonous” from different song.