King Of The Chess Board

Biscuit Vision, OG at the table

Broken Glass City—make your move if you’re able

Poet steps in,whole board goes still

King on the square with a cold-blood will

You’re pawn-shop talk with a borrowed crown

One bad move an your whole act’s down

OG stamped in dust,no bluff in my tone

You rehearse that tough,you fold on your own

Charlie don’t surf—he just slips through the wire I read the field while you pose for the fire

M.I.A. flow,can’t locate your nerve

You’ve got big talk, ittle skill,no curve

Biscuit Vision baked in,years in the grain

You’re a flash in the pan with a reheated name

Poet’s the king—checkmate make room

Broken Glass City,hear the whole block boom

Biscuit Vision,built to endure

You’re a wanna-be rumor,the verdict is sure

I be king—checkmate,stand down

Glass underfoot when i walk through town

You call yourself a captain,baby-boy you lost your map

All salute, no troops,just a costume an cap

Incoming? That’s the truth when the punchlines land

You’re diggin foxholes in a sandbox,bro

G.I. Joe posture,cardboard commando,HOE

I move the pieces with a steady hand

No draft card needed,this is wordplay patrol

One clean bar sends your whole squad home

Yeah, Poet the OG, Biscuit Vision in the house

Broken Glass City—knows who's king of the Chess board,not you man,fools mate ol' chap

You pose for the crown,throne’s made of foam

Talk big in the cypher,then freeze when the poet takes stand,I write rules while you scribble in the margins

one move,two to the jaw-knock out mate,word smith marksmanship.head shot through the scope every time I rhyme, fools mate—now the whole room’s watchin’

Broken Glass City,every shard knows my name

King on the board,you’re a pawn in the game

Biscuit Vision sharp,got the lens on your bluff

You rehearse bein’ tough;I live that stuff,bro

king of the board

One call,two piece raw,,now the whole crew applaud

Broken Glass City,hear the pieces fall

Biscuit Vision—Poet stands tall

You ain’t built for the seat,you just reach for the throne

When the real one speaks,all your big talk’s gone

King of the Chess Board,the whole block knows Checkmate,fool,game over, bro

Xin chào,anh em—Poet came to collect

You’re all talk,no grit,no respect,no effect

Đừng có nói nhiều when the real one arrives

You fold like a map when the pressure gets live

I move in quite then the whole board shifts,Click,Clack,(Pow!)

Your bars flow like a sail boat with no sail

Biscuit Vision sees through the smoke an the act,

No sell bro,You claim you’re the future,left glued where you stand,

No cheap shots,just facts in a heavyweight rhyme

You rent that persona;Poet owns his time

Pawn to the left,rook guard the line

Count your pieces—one,two,got you fools mated,poets runnin with hatchet in hand, king of the Chess board,Down with the Clowns, decapitatin, who's goin Chicken huntin,, (whoop-whoop!) poets chicken huntin

No crown from a costume,no rank from a pose,biscuit vision,fresh dough rising,King of the Chess board,fools mate,Poet owns the board;Game over bro