Where's the intruder? (Looks like he went to the tower) Trunks: Before I rock raps, I drink a keg of Listerine Then I spit the freshest lines you'll ever hear for centuries Then I form blazing sword and cut your mic cords And kill them garbage rhymes only your friends get hyped for Blitz your whole team, them niggas need to come clean So I give 'em an acid wash like old school Levi jeans Lockjaw crackin' your faulty frame And I bring the house down without hijackin' planes Locked stocked with two smokin' barrels and will use it To fuck up more beats per minute than drum'n'bass music Trunks ain't a rapper, he's a monster from the future Twistin' your body in more positions than Kama Sutra Smart-ass gettin' the Last Word with Jim Rome With a right hand like Dr. Claw that's known for breakin' bones (I'll get you next time Gadget, next time) We can have a close encounter of the fucked up kind Time warp, set on