Doc Holliday Of The Lyric Game

(Low-end rumble, heavy tape hiss)

Say when...

Yeah, step into the saloon, boy.

You're no daisy. You're no daisy at all.

Heavyweight 808s shaking the floor

Doc Holliday poet, stepping through the door

Johnny Ringo wannabes talking out their head

Leave 'em Tombstoned, left 'em all for dead

You claim you want the best? Well, I'm standing right here

Cup of tin, brass heart, smell the winter fear

In vino veritas, truth in the glass

Rapid-fire cadences, sweeping through the grass

You're a hypocrite, coward with a shiny toy gun

Thinking you're a slick shooter under Southwestern sun

I'm your huckleberry, line 'em up and play the role

Put a bullet through the beat, collect another soul

I'm the Doc Holliday of this lyric game

Tombstone your ghost, remember the name

Johnny Ringo wannabes falling in the dust

Golden silver buckles, all your promises rust

Say when, say when, drop the bass real low

808 slamming, end of the show

I'm your huckleberry, step into the light

Doc Holliday poet owns the night

Skinny lung, bad cough, but the finger never slips

Poetic vengeance running right across the lips

You're no daisy, nah, you just a shadow on the wall

Standing at the O.K. Corral watching you fall

Play for blood? Boy, you couldn't play for pennies

Lyrical quick-draw, leaving marks on many

Walked through the thunder, cold look in my eye

Ringo tried to draw, watched his spirit die

Diss track heavy, sub-bass booming out the frame

One swift trigger pull, burning out your fame

(808 drops out, dark pad suspense)

"Why Johnny Ringo... you look like somebody just walked over your grave."

Now feel the impact...

(Distant gun click, sub-bass pulse)

That's it, Ringo.

Lyrical Tombstone.

You're no daisy.

(Silence)[Verse]

I’m your huckleberry call me the Doc of the hour

Tombstone ringing with my lyrical power

Pale horse riding while the weak ones cower

Spitting game so clean it’ll make the sky shower

Say when I ain't here to pretend

Ringo types fall while giants ascend

Quoting legends carving my end

Outlaw truth with a mic to defend

Got the cough but my lungs still weaponized

These rhymes like bullets watch the clowns capsize

Haters drawing first but I’ll finalize

My words cut deep leaving foes paralyzed

Say when I ain't here to pretend

Ringo types fall while giants ascend

Quoting legends carving my end

Outlaw truth with a mic to defend

I’m rolling smoke while they choke on their shame

Cards on the table in this high stakes game

Ring in the booth just to tarnish their name

Tombstone engraved they're erased from the frame

I got this cadence sharper than a saber

Firing off rounds like I’m doing a favor

Each line signature like Wild West paper

A gunslinger’s truth cutting through your behavior, I'm your doc Holliday, your Huckleberry wordsmith sniper snipin through the scope,head shot every time I rhyme, comin from the under tow with flows beyond the under ground , click, clack, Ratatat tat, What's my name? P O E T, doc Holliday of the lyric game, Pow