Undercover Omen

[Verse 1]
They say I'm wicked check the appetite. We ain't half alike
They say that boy Omen a trip. Well I ain't packin' light
I'm somethin' like a raptor like, human sacrifice
When this mic is in my hand, I'm spittin' fire
Got 'em looking like, a candle light
I'm undercover, I'm like Columbo mixed with Sherlock Holmes
That's right, word got home
About your plans and your schemes
Fancy regimes, it's over with
TV full of dumb hoes
And naw I'm not no Overton
So sorry, won't be wife-ing
It seems to me, that only when we dumb is when you love us
Putting us upon your magazine covers
And I know about your history
All about your trickery
Your tendencies
And what your real incentive be
And how you want supremacy
You see I know your number, blow your cover
Detective Omen no problem with being the lonesome gunner
I know you act as if it's blessing you givin'
Food for thought
But I don't really trust this chef in the kitchen