Verse 1
Each composition of my literature is worthy of the Nobel/ Kick yo raps around this cornerstone and crack a toenail/ Fail-proof, enter any booth and exhale truth/ Inconsistent 16's will make me expel youth/ I uphold the principles instilled by the pioneers/ Force a rapper to retire early, leave em cryin tears/ Iverson, niggas be kunivin but ain't sly enough/ To slide by, them fly-by-nights thinkin they tight as us/ Get the palms from the masseuse, loosen they knots up/ Just to prove how much they not us/ They didn't come to Earth at 20,000 lightyears, gearshiftin through portals/ Dorian Gray, through these portraits I've become immortal/ Deep flows, better find a snorkle and a wet suit/ Disregard that accolades, the Brew knows who's the best group/ SAFS Crew, worldwide though, they'll grow to recognize/ The Super Armored Flight Suits, the Mic I use is weaponized

Hook
From the bottom of the map to opposite of the atlas/ Ain't nobody fresher, watch how I serran-rap this/ SAFS bitch, hit you with the captivatin classics/ Better get in line, watch the masters of the craft, kid/ Cos we got this, under lock and key/ Who the fuck stoppin we, huh?/ Cos we got this, under lock and key, who the fuck stoppin we?

Verse 2
From the slums and the sewers outta M-K-E/ It's DK, K-D of the LGG/ Also known as SC, not the place with Myrtle Beach/ But the Crew, SAFS, an elite fleet murdering beats/ Larry Davis with the statements/ Finally reinstated to general population/ Criminal occupation, robbing em of they sleep/ Y'all well-rested enough, this the exodus of ya sheep/ What, you ain't heard that I'm so absurd/ When surf's up you crash, I'm ahead of the curve/ Like semi-colons,  but I never half-ass/ Wheel of Fortune flows how I flip these phrases for the cash/ I'm selling vowels for 5 thou/ 1,000 extra for constanants, another 4 for nouns/ My verbs is for the pros like a chapter in the Bible/ Just sit back and relax to this immaculate recital

Hook
From the bottom of the map to opposite of the atlas/ Ain't nobody fresher, watch how I serran-rap this/ SAFS bitch, hit you with the captivatin classics/ Better get in line, watch the masters of the craft, kid/ Cos we got this, under lock and key/ Who the fuck stoppin we, huh?/ Cos we got this, under lock and key, who the fuck stoppin we?

Verse 3
If you can recall, the day curiosity killed the wack shit/ When I grabbed the mic and teleported to the mansion/ I was given a mission, now it's 17 years later/ Just as predicted, the world's inflicted with haters/ And the perpetrators, culture vultures be out to get us/ But we're cultivators, and for that alone, they against us/ They tried to creep in my lair, they figured me defenseless/ Til I whipped out my weapon and deaded em from a distance/ They need more than excederin, deaded em from a distance/ They need more then Excederin, meddlin with the misfit/ Ben Carson to these Siamese rappers, get they wig split/ I'm the last line of defense/ In that sense, I'm Bo Jackson with a backflip, climbing the fence/ You thought you knocked it out the park, but who the fuck is you kidding/ Paint pictures with the words like that old Brewers mitten/ I stand out, like OJ, I never fit in/ And as your new king, that bullshit is forbidden

Hook