alternative
indie
hiphop
rap
underground
old school
independent
Lyrics
Wit every piece of ya music, I ain’t feelin a damn bar//
While you stickin out like me at the Million Man March//
Here’s the reala mans heart while I spit it on wax//
N the only wax you see is candles Mal drips on ya ass//
N after that, ya starrin in the mirror dreamin a fame//
You take a look down n wonder if the semen ‘il stain//
He promised you a spot in his crew if you two screwed//
But after each fuckin bruise gotta wonder if its true?//
N I know me talking about ya honey’s ya Achilles heel//
But its ironic ta here a fag sayin really real//
Ain’t tryin ta bust ya balls bitch, I’m bustin ya clit//
As I'm eatin threw ya frame like some rust in ya whip//
While I’m sick on the track, you can sit n just chill//
Yur just a fish outta water, while I be rippin ya gills//
Spit in ya grill, gettin ya killed, the missions fulfilled//
The distance will build, so we can see the bitch in this zilch//
As a carbon copy of New York’s best, well lemme spell the shit//
Your to rap what Paris Hilton is to celibate//
Yur irrelevant in every which way that’s possible//
Plus you’ve had more wood between you than a motherfuckin popsicle//
N it’s not that I don’t like you bitch, its that fuckin hate you//
N wanna kill the drunken god who had fuckin made you//
I’ll take you n I’ll make you n mold you ta mine//
Scissor kick the shit out this bitch n rip out his spine//
Piss on his grave, I’ll be his biggest influence//
Wasn’t even sober ta do this, shit I binged through it//