Yep ….

Return of the reign … residing at the crest …of the range … the flo …is the sign of the change … spoken with ill … significance … speaking in remembrance … of those that we lost in the renaissance … misguided or slain …at the hands of ignorance … thinking this is the day…. they would dethrone the king …. (Ughhhh!)

Zugga proper …with da … show stopper … flo hotta … know poppa … shoota not shota… still pulling … disposition shitty… still the sickest … since the rickets pandemic… inches above iffy ….(stttttooooppppp!)

Who?….with more juice …than Q … on the roof …
Flo’s ’somthin like symphony crew… in the booth …
kill mc’s off that Orenthal … in two’s … mashed off the peel .. with mass appeal …. ( dat fa’real fa’real)

Listen mang … the spit is good money on the mic …
So tell money on the mic …. We laughing like he Money Mike … and when there’s money on the mic … and money think he tight …I spit to see to it ..you come up short money like Money MIKE …

* kicks over mic stand and walks out *

tho food for thought is served free,
Boo da pests that claim Hungary - but don't eat;
i don't speak, i just act, man of few words,
but if rhymin takes the cake - i'm takin two thirds:
with the frostin on top - one two don't stop,
run thru gum shoe crews that go pop; pop
like thin rubbers turnin young women to mothers,
makin unprepared fathers of my dumb young brothers:
one year later leave her 'behind' for another,
a clear webster's definition of a motherfucker;
find you in a jam stuck and couldn't get stucker,
pout cause ya 'in crowd' told you to pucker:
no gift like a new ass to kiss,
some new grass, a few drags, a new bag to lift;
the baggage claim bare - stance wit a stag stare,
i know not the whole plot - but i dare care:

over and out
du

still quick to talk shit
lickity split
to whoever you with
given a gift
to shift heads to the riff
Lift heads to the sky
making them fly
on and on
like the decimal of pie
I'll Never Grow Up
I'm a poisonous kid
boisterous and proud of the things that i did
lid to the back
add bass to the track
not trained, I don't cry
but i'm a hell of an act
please don't follow
more boos then apollo
spit more shit
then lil kim swallows
Niro in metrics
i'd be off the meter
thank you for the time
all my OKP readers
........ and i'm out

happy belated fam