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Take my armour off slow, see the kid's patient. Shit is serious. Stare em down. Steele faces. Exiled out of the blue/Blu but still/Steel blazin'. So amazing. World war in the making. Me against 'em. Nigga I could make haze out of ashes, learn. I could make Clay out of Cashius/cashes. But let me chill.. naw fuck it it's a battle. I'm sitting on dudes, grind balls on a saddle. The wind's closer. Feel weight shifting. Shock value risen. Eel's weight lifting. See I'm Brock from the UFC, And your Brock from Pokémon, so you can't see. Or trust my gust when it comes through, punk dudes. Levitation, therefore, tonnes blew. Chorus Here I am against the wind and I'm falling. I'm falling and I can't turn back, and that's that. x4 Verse 2 Make you overdose on Oxygen. But I aint Ox'in Jin, see I aint Solomon. I rap 'bout your background and origin. When I'm pouring in, more like soaring in. Half-ass wack ass rap cats. Leave holes in your fitted and snapbacks. I cause picks when I have sack. 'Cuz the pressure make a nigga throw a bad pass. And that's that, I don't need to rap fast... I'm Joe Budden, you're Kat Stacks. Scratch that. You're gonna lose lotto, by a number. Win, and I'mma blow your card, up into thunder. Wind blades cut it into small little pieces, and they hit the ground perfectly formulating my thesis. If you don't like my rhymes, check the beats. If you don't like my beats, than you're deaf.