All those who are talkin about me...impressions of voices and shit in the song...all done by me!!! LOL
hiphop
rap
underground
punchline
dead broke
da gloves
round ii
Lyrics
You mutherfuckers must not be listening…
Cuz I leave a bitches head’s wetter then a baby at a christening…
Walkin by like you hott, wichya wrist glistening…
Like cubic zirconium aint cheap, now nigga listen…
Don’t be scarred dawg, don’t wanna watch ya plummet…
Cuz you fold up under pressure, like a fat mans stomache…
I played ya fool, quicker then a game of pool…
You gone come up missin, like letter “E” in grades of school…
Pay-ya-dues, say ya best wishes and farewells…
Cuz ima keep coming around like carrousels…
Ima prove yall nuffin bitch…
Cuz you couldn’t make headlines if ya bitta dick while suckin it…
Im runnin-it, glock-loaded, yeh there’s sum in it…
So summon-it, and watch ya turn bitch and run-from-it…
And I carry-a-ton, or at least always carrying-one…
From sweepers, oozies, and eagles….all barrels-of-fun?
(White Chick: Dat Punchline guy, is like, so cool…I was listening to him the other day, and I like totally orgasmed off some of the shit he was saying…I mean, he’s really good, like fo sure)
In rap, I’ve sit-her for the past six-years…
And my punchlines stickout, like will smiths-ear…
This world is full of haters and liars…
But ya aint gotta be Denzel to be a man on fiyah…
But you must be use to it…
So ya better set your fuckin mind straight before I fuckin gotta do it…
And theres really nuffin to it when I come ta spew ya fluid…
Cuz Punch take beef outside quicker then Checkers can do it …
(Gangsta: Yo what the fuck, this niggas nasty…who the fuck is this nigga man? Dude is ill…lets be legit…he fuckin sick!!!!)
Aint no telling who I spray-next…
But ima treat em like a condom cuz they heads is where I like to “lay-teks”…
You don’t want beef, already heard ya tape-decks…
But you can come get it from the boss like a paycheck…
Heat-claps, on disposable actors, ya cant re-act…
Cuz I “bare-arms” like I toss my white-tee-back…
So these dudes like WOW, when I pull the lead-out…
Cuz its like Visine bitch, real quick to get the red-out…
If they hate without apology, guns they swallow-see…
Cuz ima put the “tech” in front of em just like nology…
Touched by no-man, my own-man…
And if ya dated a TV guide, you still couldn’t get wit the program…
You don’t wanna see what pop outta-my-pouch…
You would think you suck dick, when it pop-outta-ya-mouf…
Raps my thing, so anything that comes-outta-my-mouf…
Is like a pissed off boss, “fire” coming outta-my-mouf…
Your days-are-thru, when I blaze-ya-crew…
Cuz face it, I got cupholders that hold more weight-then-you…
So quit sayin you shoot hammers n pump-nines…
Cuz you couldn't shoot a cannon if you were a cameraman for drumline...
(Loser Kidd: Well, I really dunno about this punchline guy, he using way to much profanity…I gave him a shot, you kno, heard him, and basically I didn’t like it one bit…)
These dudes musta lost they mind…
Cuz the last person that fucked wit me literally lost they mind…
That prolly just costed-ya-spine…
Cuz like no call waiting, its over when ya try and cross the line…
Ya phonie-bitch, quit acting like ya owe-me-shit…
Or getta shells threw ya lungs the size of jolies-lips…
I hold-these-clips, they ready to unfold-and-shit…
On bitches like you that gone turn bold-and-shit…
I sink-blunts, until my eyes wont blink-once…
And chicks suck me off cuz they like to drink-punch…
Im holding-da-chrome to put-holes-in-ya-dome…
Shells gone-be-blown, when I release pellets-from-chrome…
Ima raider hater, undebator I tell-it-in-tones…
Cuz Im known to have more joints out then skeleton-bones…
Don’t even speak to me bitch, tell-it-da-chrome…
It’ll whisper in ya ear and straight tell-it-to-da-dome…
Im one-of-the-greatest, I aint dealing wit ugly-debators…
Record what I say and hear it back im fuckin-greater…
So clear all that hype and talk…
Or ya gone find a gased-up rag in ya pipe exhaust, mutherfucker…
There you have it ladies and gentleman…all dat hype and talk…and im fuckin ill…end of discussion!!!