Verse One:
Dermo, hailing from the bottom of the dirty states
Kicking verbs that split the Earth’s core with a sturdy trait
Speak through wires like the info you serve the jakes
Murder tapes and send unworthy fakes to the pearly gates
This sober mind puts in overtime to revise the structure
In notepads and do some soul touching
One thing that best describes me: aggression
Represent with that sonic element I mesh with
And, go through metamorphosis once metaphors assist
The adjectives for restless syntax and predicates
Seven knuckleheads tried to destroy my personality
I took them out of this world so they can get a dose of reality
Devote my life to this art form; not stuck in this game
Not stuck in this game for false hope, name, fame, or lost cream
I rep for forefathers dogged out with these bastard kids rapping
Through it all, Hip Hop will never die like ransom kidnappings

Verse Two:
The block’s writer shocks biters and stop with
The hunger of psychotic titans clashing with top fighters
Skills rise like death rates, and beats rush your chest plates
‘Til our names (are) etches in stone and aligned with fresh greats
These youngsters popping noise to crews that’s falling on deaf ears
But, we grab the mic and smash pride like Beck’s beers
Once we strike, there is no missing
Shut them down, along with mom and pop stores, for telling lies with no vision
Bring the aftermath to those that don’t know the half
We erase your whole staff because they chose the wrong path
To act a fool while you’re splitting the dro
So, when it comes to get downright dirty, you’re hitting the flo’
‘Cause they hoped to stunt my growth, so I revamped my art
And, removed self from parasitic sharks
Resurrected passion is phenomenal
Soul’s graduated, now it’s Half-God and Half-Astronomical
Vicious flows planned with the scratch
Dirty states with no talent, y’all got me fucked up like panic attacks
We’ll bum rush your cutthroat critic panel, then run you zeroes to the ground quick
Seven, hit them with that UthaGround shit