Blowout F/ Priviledge

Hail Marys get tossed. Playmakers on one knee
 Genuflect an inverted cross. Looks like
 You lost, boss. That's how the cookie crumbles
 Welcome to the jungle. Crush rappers
 Recover the fumble (First down!). The way
 I play, ain't no out-of-bounds. Keep swinging
 'Til you stay on the ground. Keep a Pound like the
 Cleveland Browns. Baltimore when I'm out of town
 Twist up when I touch down. Rhyme
 Cannon never out of rounds. Win, lose, or
 Draw, close with raw cigar. Every-
 -body by the ball, lift the glass for these I-95
 All-Stars. Been doing it since sax
 In backyards, juking squad cars on boulevards
 Stiff-arming security guards in Juilliard
 Look at the motherfucking scoreboard
 Look at the motherfucking scoreboard
 Priviledge on the mic, massive yard, flash gas
 Faggots need to quit rapping, take a step
 When shit happens like gats, you're wrapped in an ill faction
 Thinking you can still master top mics, shows rock
 Tight flows. God guys grown, you the deacon, I'm the
 Pastor, rhyme disaster, spit a mind-mes-
 -merizing, spine-tingling, bursting at
 Disperse. When the word's worth less than your life, murk
 Crushed is what you get when you cook with the crockpot
 I mean, the pot cooking, grub-robbing all hotspots
 On fan shows, we dove, freak hoes need clothes
 Ass out the steeple, preaching math to the people from
 Philly to Indonesia. Dawg, I see you when I see you like
 Martin told Gina. Started off in the arena. If you
 Want to get down with this evil, be either crushing
 Meters in the measure, plus I heard you're living single like
 spit your facts. Plus, I keep
 The meters intact while I'm on stage rhyming, sound
 Bleeding through your speakers like a hemophiliac, slice
 Leaking on the sneakers. For all these cats who wanna
 Scream on receivers, start it off if you
 Wanna harness the prowess. Smack
 Emcees like baby powder (Uh, uh)
 It's the ladies hour (You nah'mean?). Come
 Receive my baby showers (What? Yeah)
 Victory slid through my hands. Back on
 The run like the Taliban, brass bands
 Dirty Dozen, village of the damned hatching
 Plans. Fuck Afghanistan. Colt
 Two'll be on 125 with an M1 Garand
 Kickstand Cannondale, Uncle Sam
 Drawing lines in the sand with Iran. I got a bird
 In the hand—the fuck I need two grams?
 A Bush, shove comes to push, shove comes to
 Push. When they came for the jewels, you said
 Nothing. When they came for the Muslims too
 You said nothing, so don't call my crew when it's
 Your spot they're rushing