Two Dozen Hooded Soldiers

Two dozen hooded soldiers, the safe holder lay frozen,
led by the chosen theft, gun blowing wid any motion,
please be still, and mannored, wigs get pealed like bananas,
cease to panic, or the glock rock niggaz like solid granite,
hand it over, I want the whole load, told you be calm,
what you reaching for, he armed with the desert eagle in his palm
niggas flinching, flat em like dialtones in cell phones 
bout to blow a hole in his chest like Jabs from Roy Jones
shown the exit, he flexed wid speed of tran-city metric,
through cop infested streets, from the domestic chaotic hectic,
scene, the hiest for the cream and supreme rhyme schemes,
coaded sequence screened from controls in the low East wing,
of my lobby, stacked wid more hits than Bing Crosby,
try to knock me off the top, be stealing original copies
I looked unsettled at the sight of my music, being embezzled,
had to let the thieves out, cause I never pack metal,
kettle on a stove blazing hot, what I thought'd never get got,
got get, with the fucking threat of an enemy plot
let my own people in and the backsabbing evil gins,
sinned against his friend, portrayed wid the solid gold grin,
chin high, couldn't look me in the eye when he lied,
sent his spies a day before, to scope my crib inside-out,
no doubt had his route planned out, opened the stout,
poored the liquid in my mouth, while I thought his where abouts,
in his lab, hidden in a bad neighborhood, I took a cab,
invited his whole squad to battle, for the stolen paper's they had,
they wasn't hearing it so I took out my mic began to spit,
kicked some weak shit, lured em into the trap I rap wid,
supreme legacy, so niggaz that sit next to me, get blessed,
as niggaz I manifest or associates of the best,
they bought the bate I feed snakes, with the line of pig swine,
casted out in rhyme form, so when kids sworm they find,
a fisherman of biters rewriters of written chapters,
that already made cash, decades before they were rappers,
thats the truth, and I hit them niggaz like a pint of 90 proof,
wid uppercutts like Mortal Kombat two, blew through the roof.
head rocked em, with the star trek technique, Mr. Spak'd em,
photon bombed em untill the white flag was their option,