License $0.00
Free download
Creative Commons license
Commercial uses of this track are NOT allowed.
Adaptations of this track are NOT allowed to be shared.
You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the artist.
Song Info
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.8 MB • 128 kbps • 3:01
Lyrics
cuz i thought brother ali came down with leukemia
my shit is A-plus you can't see me son. i up the
volume and give you an L like encyclopedias
the masses spoke. all you got is multisyllables
in which im fully killin you plus my flow is iller too
ill roll over this rolly polly little dude
totally finished so he'll never make another audience miserable
a crowd of people can't hear you tryin to rhyme
without four of five of them guys cryin and tryin to die
money from his beats couldn't buy him a line
never mind me i lied. he was caught hiring hibe
aside from his crimes, either my eyes lie and im blind
or uncle fester tried gettin high and decided to rhyme
the fact you got an ego with that wack music man
makes you the only engineer that can't do the math
your trash dude its fact. lackin a flow
which rap cat tutored fasto from casper the ghost
i'm bashin you, but you decide how fast it'll go
you want your neck trapped in a noose fag or back to the ropes
ive mastered this so who is that kid
other than the worlds first canadian with a new york accent
then i realized that that shit's the same as his cap is
he copycats it to feel like a part of the action
you dont know the way i rock mics dude... i've been holdin
back for an overrated twat like you
you freak show. bitches must look like a threatened deer
cuz all they do is stop and stare whenever theres an engine-near
the lackluster depressin lyrics are gettin queer
the bloods missing from that shit, its just sweat n tears
peeps you party with you probably fret in fear
"he looks like has liver cancer. dont give him a second beer"
his bite's light. he's a man-bitch, the dyke type
you might like him but im testin if the hypes right
it's fight night. you ain't hoppin in no lyrical boxing ring
it's night night in round three, you ain't got the chin
you write like your brain ain't gettin oxygen
euthasia fits this dudes occasion bitch the doctors in
we all know your boring systematic flows
do no harm like theyve taken the hippocratic oath
Comments
The artist currently doesn't allow comments.