Champions The Four Owls (Ft. Q-Unique)

I'm an American psycho, that's papa from B-K
Here with Laudy and Jenny, Platinum three-way
Made payola drop to the D-Js
So y'all can here me spit a thousand times a weekday
That's not me talkin', that's what the weed says
Fuck you up then check youtube for the replay
These little thugs take it too far and need to chill
Your reputation far exceeds your skill
The smell of death has a disgustin' aroma
But hip-hop ain't dead it's just in a coma
Bustin' my chroma
From my throne
Let us flow
Touch and own a
Champagne shims
Halfway house
Dwell in a place where hatred helps satan
Demons, angels divide soul brethrens
Skew your meat, call me the psycho American

Ayo even shape, call me different forms
So keep your eyes to the floor
'Cause theirs snakes in the lore
Killin' new liars leave fakes in the morgue
The place you're right now
That's the place you'll be mourned
Murder, hopeless, jokers with no motives
Choke her, more loud, now in slow motion
A flow glow up I've got an overdosage
Of potent power, man the world control it
You're going overboard
Like Robert Maxwell with ya sell shit
Sometimes I'm selfish
But I get my own way because my ideas are well picked
Compare to where I send you, Hell's bliss
What makes you ain't got before you have to
I stay up all hours writin' in my pad too
Motivation, let me see the same
Reason why my hands touch the NPC