this a good one

I come to every club with intention to do harm
With a prosthetic arm and smelling like Boone's Farm
hiding under tables as soon as I hear alarms
Paranoid thief that'll steal from his own moms
Conniving Kon, Artis with a bomb
Strapped to my stomach screaming, "Let's get it on!"
A lush that love to drink, drunk driving a tank
Rollin over a bank, cops see me and faint
It's drastic, I'm past my limit of coke
I think I'll up my high by slitting your throat
Push your baby carriage into the street, 'til it's mince meat
Your mens been beat the minute I step onto your street
This is fight music!