(GREG PRIESTER)
We are geese we're legion
We will police our region
Hear our hiss our call
We hold our heads up tall
Spread our wings and show them we bring
The toughest guns above the whole sea
To join our feather ring
Hum along to the song we sing

(SKIZZO)
Track three I'm ripping on a trap beat
Can't be Skizzo tripping if he think he
Got the chop ability for mopping up an
Enemy and honking to infinity about to give a slap wing
Grab a mic I will spit little bit of it
Chase down a little jit til he skittering
Send him on a big trip for the winter and
Check him out and see that he will never meet a friend again
Webbed feet paddle in a pond of flappers I
Bite hard on your itty bitty quackers
Sweet bread is better from the bloody hands
Of a bunch of wannabe washed out rappers
Cry foul when we show you what we bringing
To dinner it's got a wattle with a little red comb
Duck down when a rapper cut you from the mic
Pray to Jesus that it won't be known
Got a game go get him gonna give a grim
Grave grip a gaggle got a glass gimme goose
So insane sick of seeing salmonella in a
Set of sorry chickens stupid can't read Seuss
Miss that? Then you're gonna get dispatched
Pissed that you can never send a diss back
Big catch got Greg on a hit track
Only gonna get better gotta admit that
My father attended goose high his alma mater predicted the future
Meanwhile my mother grabbed a Shure mic
Giving out the soul you ain't never gonna mute her
Pay respect to the worldwide honkers
Step into the world of fowl feathers go bonkers
Tough wicked wing attack we monsters
Graduated from the Hippocampus with honors

(DAYBREAK)
It's Mr. Jesse ripping the bars up to shreds
A shady motherfucker so call up the feds
Earn by any means yes haul up the bread
And if you say a word it's all done, you dead
I spit fire and speak in flames
Now rise higher and speak my name
No desire or need for fame
I inspire through deeds of pain
Yes it's that time, a crime of passions
Speakers blasting the voice of the Van rap assassin
Attacking the mic till the whole map collapses
Running with crooks, fiends and nasty bastards
So bow down or rest in peace
Woe to the motherfucker testing me
It's class time, attention please
Motherfuckers lose sleep when you mention me

(CLAYMORE)
Shit, I flew the coop like a hen in a nest
Fuck around, bring a pen to the test
I put an end to the rest, lead in ya chest
Then I take your bread and I left
Deuce-deuce round put a hole in ya goose down
New sound, ruthless (roofless) like a coupe now
N.O., put it down for the boot town
You ain't bangin', leave you hangin' from a noose now
You shook 'cause you 'bout to get ya goose cooked
You done lost all value in my Blue Book
Nigga fake it till you shaken by a few crooks
Layin' face-down on the ground, get ya boots took
Manner of speech is much different than yours
'Cause I can get chicks without flippin' them birds
I am that nigga, that wizard with words
I'm rippin' this shit till your vision is blurred

(DNT STOP)
Let me set you straight
If you living out in a big house or you out there down on Section 8
If you living out where we live now
Then you out here tryna get extra cake
Tryna get extra dough
On the Hangang Daero out here tryna get extra so
Yo I'm set to go
The MC professional
All the time for dolla sign
For commas huh no question yo.
I'll let you know
Don't wait for no convo
No coming back like Jon Snow
You nobody like Jon Doe.
(Aye) You hating right
Ooh you just cant make it right
Oh you just like mama Trump
All you wan do is take a bite
Take a flight take a car
You can see what you wanna see
Game Dnt Stop I'm on the mic man
Really like Jumanji
Yo yo hey the mic is on yeah I guess that mic is on
Shoot that just like Michael huh You know you like it huh
You come with the baby talk man I just can't decipher none
I rap more like Busta Rhymes watch me tear the cypher up like that