Hurt Pack

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[Verse 1: Tha God Fahim]

Fearless warrior, rough barbarian

My blade do the cesarean; axe-carryin'

Varyin' raps, arrogant

I father styles like a surrogate—uh

Fah done went and hit the motherlode

You better stay within your comfort zone

False prophets get they cover blown

I keep the heat like the oven on

I'm comin' from the far reaches, shattered your flawed thesis

Look you in the eyes, I see weakness, I got 'em weakened

I'm a treasure of modern language; challengers get vanquished

I grip the mic with the spirit of the ancients

How sweet the technique I let speak

Got another tape droppin' next week and the next week

You can't admonish my acumen; raps masculine

In my spiderweb where I wrap you in and pack you in

Give you a run for your money

I might crack a smile, but ain't a damn thing funny, motherfucker

Give you a run for your money

I might crack a smile, but ain't a damn thing funny, motherfucker

Give you a run for your money

I might crack a smile, but ain't a damn thing funny, motherfucker

[Verse 2: Your Old Droog]