Roll The Dice (feat. Powa Tripp)

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King Madi

2:45

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Dr. Madison, I think we're ready...

Yeah

As I start it, I'ma end it from the beginning
With lyrical spitting, me and my dog we gone' sick 'em
Like chicken heads, we gone' wig 'em
But that won't make 'em look better
I'm on my evil vendetta
You see PT getting better
I'm a G, like the letter
Unlike these puppets Gepetto
I push the pedal to the metal
Like I'm Dom Toretto
With this rap I'm a rebel 
You'll never see me conforming
Not a prince, but I'm charming
Ask your bitch, she be falling
Early mornings I'm mourning
Til them evenings I'm eating
How they biting my flavor
I guess these babies be teething
Tell me the reason, the meaning
Of why they think that they He-Man
When I'm the power of grayskull
To a skeletal scheming
For this relish, no pickles
I got kosher deals
Like movie projectionist you should know the reel
Me and King Madi some specialists of this hip-hop shit
It don't matter if it's written, or off the tip-top bitch!

Ayo, Tripp, we got 'em yelling on some Chris Rock shit
Ain't no beauty to this beast
Now watch how I mop shit
Quick to take you out the picture
You can get cropped, bitch
Wack MCs on the menu 
Yes, I got options 
Yeah, hotter than Frank's, and my flow like the ocean
In and out of the bank, I deserve a promotion
I been up in the lab, stirring and mixing the potions
They ain't really tryna' battle, man they gotta be joking
Bring a 16 to a beat, but nigga ain't shit sweet
Presidents in my pocket, not one of them impeached
Me and Powa Tripp, yes we are lyrical criminals
I should start charging you rappers for all these little subliminals
Slow down there, buddy!
You're trying really hard
Disregard, wack rappers, just give 'em my business card
You took double the shots and still got zero bars
Take notes, my flow tighter than a fucking leotard

You best be on your guard, 'cause we on the offensive
Hanging rappers with this fire, guess we'll call it a lynching
Like scientists we in the lab just experimenting
But these flows, we inventing
Put that Lilo and Stitch in like Jamba
We gone' put you in line, no Konga
I been eating beef, still ain't filling my hunger
These underground artists treat the booth just like a bunker
Then I debunk 'em, and I punk 'em, scrap metal junk 'em
Flunk 'em, your favorite rapper a failure
Never been royal he ain't on his regular
I guess you didn't listen, what the f*ck did I tell ya?
If you is the shit, why the f*ck I don't smell ya?

Man, I really let these bars go, no Elsa
I'ma take they ass to school, then fucking expel them
And we taking over, yes this is a rebellion
Me and Tripp plus the beat, a triforce like Zelda
Man what y'all niggas want?
Leave 'em in a trunk
Driving on a bumpy road, "thump, thump thump"
I ain't talking 'bout the genre, man, you really is a Punk
Bars go Over The Hedge, make you stank face like a skunk
Ummm, by a show of hands, who thought I wasn't nice?
Call me Justin Bieber, I might throw up on the mic
And I'm seeing all these green like I'm going on a hike
Think you can top this? Make a bet, my nigga roll the fuckin' dice!

Hahaha King Madi I ain't even know you had it in you!
I mean... excuse me Dr. Madison, onto the next phase...

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