A lot of rappers like to claim, that they spit.
Until I get in the booth, and show ‘em they ain’t shit.
Vinum’s lyrically fit, and equipped to dome split.
Any rapper that you get, is a moving target.
You’re living a fantasy, or alternate reality.
Going against Tyger Vinum lyrically.
I rhyme about life, my history is larceny.
Sprinkled in raps, that get you high like tree.
My brain don’t work right, it’s called insanity.
Quick to smack a bitch up like Prodigy.
If she get out of line, and her lips start flying.
Talking reckless, in the cage with a lion.
There’s no denying, Vinum’s dope with rhymes.
Elevating minds with lines, on drugs, sex and crimes.
But never mine, that’s how cats get prison time.
I entertain the brain with fictional paradigms.

CHORUS (2X)
One of the best kept secrets in the industry.
A real master of ceremony, Tyger V.
With Slisco B, and we high like astronauts.
Smashing thru opponents, like the juggernaut.

Punks hide your girl if she’s attractive.
My flows massive, straight radioactive.
In a matter of minutes she’ll be on my arm.
Dangling off my words like a chain with a charm.
But Vinum drops bombs that scramble the neurons.
In your brain with slang that connects like voltron.
Are you feeling me yet, like patches of nicorette.
That help control your smoking but can’t make you forget.
That I’m sick with it, nitro-glycerine when I spit it.
Game so heavy you need a forklift to move it.
So I’m not trying to hear the bullshit that you say.
Watch your girls hands play where my nuts lay.
As my words spray, thru systems across the globe.
From sub-tropical climates to the Artic cold.
Three albums done, a hundred thousand sold.
While watching whack niggaz chase platinum and gold.

CHORUS (2X)
One of the best kept secrets in the industry.
A real master of ceremony, Tyger V.
With Slisco B, and we high like astronauts.
Smashing thru opponents, like the juggernaut.