This is a song that I wrote.
I was told to write this song by the Lord Todd Almighty.
You been waitin.
I know it.
With-out further ado,
I'm picking up tha mic and murderin you.
You up shit creek wit-outta paddle doc,
Cause you ain't hard knocks, you fraggle rock.
Let that liquor bottle trick you into thinking you can squabble dog,
Bet ya dat ya you step to me ya motherfucking hobble off.
kinda like a hobbit wit ya hairy little feet
bitches eat my meat
While you sleep in the street.
I got much much much much moe ta go,
And you couldn't hold a candle witta votive hoe.
So listen to me now, and
understand me later.
I usually get paid to educate a hater.
What I'm sayin is, have my money by tonight,
Or you'll be dead and I'll be facing twenty-five to life.
And I don't want see that, so what it be cat?
If you broke then you can just tell me where the weed at.
Either way, somthin gotta give on the real dog.
How you gonna rap when ya cap get's peeled off?
This goes out to all ya'll, yappin on the mic wit no heart at all.
Turn the fuck around start circling back,
cause you ran up in the wrong damn cul-de-sac.
That's what it is bitch. I ain't no peace loving preacher.
Deliver wit tha beef like a meat lovers pizza.
Soups on.
Knock knock
Nockz you gone.
And ya shoulda knew phawn was way too strong.
This kid's weak.
Can't believe he's even walking.
He'd get his fucking ass kicked boxing Stephen Hawkings
I bet he's got a mullet and high top fade like Dre3k had a kid wit Dave Spade.
My breezies stay fly like Juicy J.
Most of Scribes hoes got tooth decay.
Fool said his main girl was a hot red head.
When I saw him wit the bitch, She looked like drop dead Fred.
I ain't hatin on ya playa cause it ain't no shame.
But ya can't maintain when ya game so lame.
The fact of the matter is simply this.
I'm a pimp and you just a little pimply bitch.