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Who Want It

by Beace (circa 2009)

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Writer: Beace
Producer: Malaki aka Abdullah The Butcher

Verse 1
Who want it wit Beace I'm goin overkill doubt my skillz I murder mics for cheap thrills rhyme like they say Ecstasy feels slick as banana peels chill or get punched in the grill I'm one-in-a-mill its all real rely strictly on lyrics and beat production no gimmicks lets scrimmage explosives lace every sentence splendid spectacular classics no trend hits when my lyrics collide with your mind get your dome dented dawg I got layers of flavor relentless never waver deliver content you can savor pages and pages I dug deep within my inner essence and found a true savior witty unpredictable rhymes is what I gave'yah serve more fools than Roscoe's Chicken & Waffles claim'in they macho cats is soft like hard shell tacos bloody your nose with rhyme flows the game didn't choose me it got chose yah dig

Verse 2
You rhyme superficial cats is useless like wet tissue corn-dog rap cats you just an impostor I'm shrimp and lobster over angel hair pasta cordial but beneath the surface beats the heart of a true mobster fun love'in intelligent thug some cats think they tough cause they mean-mug and don't speak too much get smothered judging my book by the cover spit raw sewage straight from the gutter put a hole-in-one without a putter foes get squoze like lypo suction when I bust Alf-1 on the cutz got it sewn up listen plush rhymes glisten outshine diamonds only way to find me is mine'in its all by design Malaki guillotine Chop'in Block Beace alias Writer's Glock conspier and plot to bully hotshots get picked on like boogers in my snot box put the game on top-lock yah dig

Verse 3
Get put in the headlock til your eyes pop first two verses warning shots I plot rotten buck fifty across your face with the ox crazy like a fox when the beat drop kicks knock I'm more horrifying than Alfred Hitchcock play you like Forrest Gump get popped in the buttocks spi tighter than dreadlocks to put it simply I'm on a roll in control of my own destiny test me get lit-up with word weaponry I go spastic on your amateurish flow spit acid laugh and get your nose broke I'm no joke sun playin games is for lams Writer's Glock steady aim you can have the fame I want the fortune lyrics lick off like flames scorchin I'll torch ah blunt goose bumps is for chumps flows automatic when I dump witness the genius of a master craftsman sass me and get slapped in the guillotine yah'nah'mean


released July 20, 2015
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