Verse 1. I wanna crush, kill, destroy, The stress weighs heavily, I swear Hip Hop will be the death of me, I'm getting buried in the booth, not the cemetery, I write like tonight just might be the end for me, Hooked on red bull, my energy depleted, Never retreat until my enemy defeated, I'm battling beats, tackling each with vengeance, With each speech I release the tension, No less than perfection I strive for, Willing to try more, This music I live and I die for, My only rest will be cardiac, I don't wanna party, I'll be by the bar where the bacardi's at. Chorus Stress, s- t - r- e double s, stress (repeated) Verse 2 Palpitations, sweats and migraines, Panic-attacks, I've got debts and time-frames, Dates and deadlines, So I can't rest when it's bedtime, I'm trying to stay ahead of the breadline, I need some head space, Four people in the same room, At nighttime I need some bed space, I'm running a dead race, I'm going cuckoo, Losing my mind trying to solve a sudoku, My life stinks like a plate full of fufu, Late for work because my day job's doo doo, Somebody please help me, I'm ready to lose it, I'm like a loose cannon going round with the fuse lit. Chorus Verse 3 I've had enough, yo I can't really take more, Everyday it's like I got something to pay for, I'm out to break laws, 'bout to break jaws, Get up in my face bruv, maybe I'll break yours, So break north, Better give me a wide berth, Doctors can't fathom how the fuck my mind works, A real wild child with a vision of red mist, Ready to rumble, I stay with a clenched fist, Popping a prescription pill, I roll another cig, I tried but can't quit for real, This is an SOS, I'm in need of a saviour, Before I slaughter my inconsiderate neighbour. Chorus Written by Efeks for Mile High Music

Verse I hear voices in the back of my mind, The devil on my left shoulder encouraging me to pick up the nine, It's my time to shine, 15 minutes of infamy, I'm making history for killing off the industry, A killing spree, for anyone who had it in for me, Ridiculed my raps and said they wasn't feeling me, I'm plotting murder and there won't be no mystery, The music is dying so I'ma put it out it's misery, I'll plant a pack of C4 in every venue, Where Prose couldn't get on the menu, I intend to descend to the depths of iniquity, The thrill is chilling me, My thoughts are filled with wicked imagery, Strapped with more artillery than an infantry, Maybe I've been cursed since the days of my infancy? I'm on a mission to execute executives, PR's, A&R's and label representatives, Radio disc-jocks blocking the progress, will taste the metal, I won't settle for no less, I'm hopeless, so stressed, so don't test, A broken man who's hell bent, On a lone quest, to prove his worth, I've been bruised and hurt, Now what's coming is only what you dudes deserve, I've got an axe to grind, To crack backs and spines, You wack rappers are wishing you never grabbed the mic, I'm on a rampage, I'll even kill my own fan base, The wounds I inflict, they won't fix with a band aid, You're now looking at a man made murderer, Revenge is the cold dish I'm serving ya, To the earth returning ya! Written by Efeks for Mile High Music