Sem Misericórdia

You were waiting to hear Kid on a Sam beat
You were waiting to hear Kid on a Sam beat

I should be locked up for this verse (yha?)
Actually, it's cocaine not verse when I supply
Seems like cheating, I bring cheat sheets to the cypher
That's euthanasia in a Phyzer capsule
I know the light that guides me attracts haters
It's with the same light that Prodigy produces paper
The griff I put, seduces like putting on make-up
My rap is tattoos with Cruzfader's needle
No mercy, I see so many copies
They have no scene of their own, I didn't ask for look-alikes
I built the castle without a hammer
With punchlines that belong in Canelo's hand?
President, I sign with Marcelo's hand
I hit kids, like a mother with a hand on the slipper
In the cockpit, hijack
I live this life fast
I leave first class
And enter an S class

There's no mercy
Foot on the neck

Aham
This is rhymeshit that shakes in rap
Don't you see the shadow face of Pelcor on the cap's visor
Don't stretch, niggas disappear because of rap
If he stretched, now he's stretched in the back trunk
This is NGA from the son of the streets 2
Al Pacino on 22-inch rims
Check the nigga before and after
I'm so far from these bros
I've seen the future before for later
Keep the massacre going
Believe me, nigga
Then I'll buy a biva
Or a bungalow in the Maldives
Wow, damn, son of the king
Only poke Prodigy if you want trouble with a king
They don't understand any of this, just want money
They don't get hip-hop, Sam
The dialect is foreign
You were waiting to hear Kid on a Sam beat
Life is a bitch
I told the bitch: Je t'aime

It's the son of the king, mothafuckas