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rap battles hip hop flow disses punchline punchlines battles freestyle freestyles eminem mixtape
yes sir
Song Info
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MP3
MP3 2.3 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
I'm about to wreck this instrumental/
Addressin and settin my mentals on top of this track and I got threatnin potential/
And I will....grab you by the back of ya jacket/
Attack you with a jagged hatchet til ya faggot ass is leakin lactic acid/
I'm causin so many casualties when I'm spittin/
That ya homies'll need to pour out more liquor than prohibition/
My flow is hittin, rhyme scheme---disasterous/
I'll throw a pacifist into a hazardous massacre/
Rappers on wax just bore me, these faggots rhyme wacker/
I'ma give em 'colder shoulders' than a Packers linebacker/
The spinecracker, cuz yo I'm fracturin vertebrae/
The words I say impersonate stabs from an urgent surgeon blade/
But, yall are ventrilloquists, talkin shit with no bill in it/
While I just keep on spillin scripts hotter than lightbulb fillament/
My battle skills are iller, kids...this honkey is hotta/
And I will beat ya candy asses like a donkey pinata/
Cuz I will grab you, smack you with the back of my hand/
Til ya face looks like Picasso paintings hangin in France/
My slang is advanced, you hangin with Phant? Not gonna happen/
I'm rappin til the wackest rappers pack their bags, get off the map and.../
Admit that they could never hang with this mixtape/
Shit's great, gets play even by kids in sixth grade/
Sharp as a switchblade, biggest you ever seen/
And we sever spleens with the precision of Redick 3's/
Medics please...I'm losin my breath/
I'm shootin my text at top speeds, abusin my chest/
So I will...take a break and come back with the violent sickness/
The flyest spittin cat in Pittsburgh, Milo kick it
HOOK (Milo)
Hey yo verse two, first off, I'm handin out a warning/
I'm better hands-down like fans when yall performing/
Essentially, my venom be drenchin my enemies/
So I cant find an equal match like Ronald Reagan playin Memory/
Mentally, I'm the smartest cat...to clutch a mic/
And I will turn a starvin artist right into an anchient artifact/
I'm ready to slay, machetes and blades/
Are causin chalk outlines to look like thrown confetti at games/
Can you...please tell me someone fuckin with this?/
I'm clutchin my fist to bust it through his jugular, which.../
One of you listeners think I'm violent?/
I'm spittin fire until the entire environment just hires some firemen/
Cuz I...spit professional decibals, wreckin fools right off their pedestals/
Cuz they're swingin like Tarzan from my testicles/
And dick-ridin's ok, but I cant stand this shit/
I mean I'm givin golden showers every time I stand to piss/
So handle this: It aint gonna stop, man/
I'm tyin cadavers of rappers together like pop cans/
Dragged from the back-of-a-car, driven-by-newleyweds/
Think I give a crap-who-you-are? I'm rippin-the-smoothest-heads/
And I'm about to finish it, spittin over the wickedest instruments.../
Witnessed by listeners then mixed in with sentences that.../
Get at my foes, never failin to injure em/
Swingin back and forth on blades when I impale em on pendulums/
(Yo this is just a mixtape, why'd you have to bust one!!??)/
Cuz son, this 'cd's loaded' like a fuckin trust fund/
I'm done, just doubled the drop of this/
The Bubblegum Populace, motherfuckas aint toppin this...
