To: Inspectah Wrekt

The stage is set, the players are close at hand
Slowly the wheels are churning, the product in high demand

The question is do you have the gumption?
Is the message ripe and prepared for consumption?

It's all just so damn fast and furious
So much so that it draws the curious

Onlookers, of course - they can't resist the force
Of the sights they see, they're completely porous

That is you can see right through, nothing new
The games the world plays, what can you do?

The Inspectah is sitting back and waiting
Like Deck or Gadget, relaxed, anticipating

For the ideal moment, the opportune time
Then you make out better than Optimus Prime

Then you simply cock, lock, and rock the Glock
No time for small talk, watch their jaws drop in shock

Then spray and pray, and deliver the lead boquet
Watch the array of bullets pass through like x-rays

And bring them down a notch, they can only watch
As their plan gets botched while The Inspectah sips scotch

As would any detective, laid back, achieving objectives
They try to reply but in the end their counters ineffective

In truth they're just defective, they can't stand up to the collective
They have the wrong perspective, in the end it's all subjective

Take a sublime hit like sweet Chronic curing ills
Because it has to be better than swallowing pills

These are fast times and we have all the personnel
At your back there's the force, the Chronic Cartel

My Regards,
NFuhhhble DOOM