Lyrics:
Slaves On Dope Glass Friend

Mystical just to show, what I know when I go out, and move on to battle You rhymes like shit, youse a quick thinker stinkin type of hype I like to recite on

The bottom of a glass or a bag of dope, Nowhere to turn when you're shit out of luck! Still alone and I'm still fucked... fuck you! Slave to addiction

when I go out, and move on the battle tip You rhymes like [edited], you'se a quick pick to stick the type of hype I like to recite on - my Chorus Line