[Verse 1]
Chessmonster, wild as Charles Bronson
Fresh from the valleys of hell and half conscious
Fire in the bellies of sin
Warped minds of a maniac, writes with the poisonous ink
Sitting looking how this rap game changed
Now they wanna rap gangster, never even seen cocaine
You've let Scarface into your mind
You're not thugging
Real ain't hard to define
You're not thugging
Listen up cousin, it's me; Big C-H-E
Double S, M-O-N-S-T
E-R, We are
Just about to be
In the presence of the finest from '93
So, what
[Verse 2]
They wanna fill my socks with propaganda
In the chop shop where I clock salamander
Slap fake rappers (?) indication
Step to the stage and I'll burn your invitation
New cats look at my term
I've been around for a while, and I ain't never seen a crook with a perm
Me and weed's like a book and worm
Stay close to the kerb
Spit fire, then I look at you burn
I'm gone
(Gone, gone)
Rap Manson, watching the protocol
That's me, them bars hit Gorilla-Man
I was real when B-Real could kill a man
Bringing multiple cutthroats and killergrams
Rap genie, see me than I disappear
Sicker than the (chop, chop) brare with the missing ears
Fed your girl them Es
I'm surrounded by landmines, for real, blud
You don't want to step to these
Just listen to mine
The C-H-E
Double S, M-O-N-S-T
E-R, We are
Just about to be
In the presence of the finest from '93
And (yuh!)
[Verse 3]
On the mic as wild as (?)
Me I burn pipes and itals, f*ck phillies
I'm backwards, dirty white face in a black hood
Rough-gritty, I was raised where they snatch goods
I remember the punks with mohicans
Sniffing up the glue on the blocks the whole evening
Suddenly the roughnecks came to start eating
I was in the square with bars, my heart beating
This rap thing took the biggest part of me then
And partially half of me has been a part of my pen
After me, halve of them have started barking again
And part of me'll start a trend and say it's hard to defend
So please, shoot some breeze
The C-H-E
Double S, M-O-N-S-T
E-R, We are
Just about to be
In the presence of the finest from '93
And (yuh!)
[Verse 4]
In the street with stars and rap ninjas
Lost in this shield of steel, the Batfinkers
And grand slam, banging on my chest like Tarzan
Barsman, and a marksman with a fast hand
Never carry no gun
I'm not thugging
Listen up cousin, you're bugging
The way you're f*cking with these
Not loving, and you will get a clubbing
Please, no more breeze
All love in the game
A little time and I've sewn more seeds
More police, more guns
But there's no more weed
So, please, grow them trees
The C-H-E
Double S, M-O-N-S-T
E-R, We are
Just about to be
In the presence of the finest from '93
[Chorus]
Please, grow them trees
The C-H-E
Double S, M-O-N-S-T
E-R, We are
Just about to be
In the presence of the finest from '93
E-R, We are
Just about to be
In the presence of the finest from '93
E-R, We are
Just about to be
In the presence of the finest from '93
And (yuh!)
[Outro]
("Lost deep within in the soul of all mankind
There is a hidden cauldron of terror
Fed
By the flames of madness")