Lyrics Under Your Skin - Embis

Uh, round one

I'm an ill spitter, my skill gives a 'lil splinter in your confidence
Still lit-er, and it's common sense that I'm the shit
See I'm omniscient, I knew you was 'gon
Bomb your song way before you dropped it, bitch
I'm talkin' shit, but modesty
Still got a lot of it, I'm not a god in this
And not the opposite but I'm a prophet sent by god himself
To save the game and abolish sin, I'm on some kamikaze shit
Just bombin' Nazis and I come with body hits
Might save you like a fireman, hackin' on fire walls
Or maybe I'm anonymous, just hackin' your firewall
My music I done polished it and I'm craftin' these fire songs
Might just call me the fire man 'cause I'm hackin' up fire balls
But rappin' don't hire y'all, just gotta keep on my grind
Not swimmin' in the deep end this time, no sheathin' the knife
Ain't got no time for you sheep that are blind
'Cause I found that when the herds around me
All that fur is clouding my vision
Bet ya'll'd listen if what heard wasn't sounding
Muffled, I envision I'll be sure astounding
And with the doubting, I'm imprisoned or with murder bounties
Glad I'm under epidermis soundly

My whole goal in life's to make you cry
Get up under your skin, you can't make me die
My whole goal in life's to make you cry
Get up under your skin, you can't make me—

Got an hour in the booth and I prepaid
To spill the sourest truth in a sweet way
Might devour 'ya tooth, it'll decay
And then down goes your roof as I relay this info
And I expect what ensues, that you naysayers
Are 'gon reject what I do, but I'm reppin' the truth
Soon as I step in the booth, I spill red
Not blood, I mean from all the pens that I've killed dead
Now, I'm a metalworker 'cause I wield led
I feed on rookie MCs, I'm well fed
It would be a breeze with my skill set
And puts me at ease to grill speds
Wanna shoot me a DM like assassinatin' a marksman?
You can check back to see and it's still "read"
My music is a weapon of force aimed at the dirty bitches
Who ain't ever supportin' the first amendment
While they break the record for words per minute
I wanna do more than just earn a Guinness
But the worst's impending, there's no words invented
To describe what you are sure to witness
You know we're dependent on the verses spitted
No more slurrin' spitting, guess I'm stirrin' shit up
With absurd opinions, so refer to hitlist, check the names
Of all the murder victims, kill the worst of penmens
And you better hope that the curse is lifted 'cause—

My whole goal in life's to make you cry
Get up under your skin you can't make me die
My whole goal in life's to make you cry
Get up under your skin you can't make me—