goin for the league championship
Check out the artist page.
Stream all 147 songs for free.
Lyrics
Im takin aim at james, while he’s playin video games//
From a scope I see his frontal lobe, bout ta see his brains spray//
My lines hit like a nine, cuz when im rhyming I blast shyt//
When you die, you’ll be the only guy, wit a double wide casket//
I aint thinking saltines or ritz when I say its cracker on cracker//
Only way you getting a vote is if they asked, which rapper is wacker//
He might be dope wit a poem, but me im nice wit a mic tho//
I got em crappin his pampers, he cryin “why I gotta fight joe?”//
Im the reason people believe that white folks is psycho//
Ill slice tubbies stomach, to help him siphon his Lipo//
Ill keep comin wit fat jokes, its too easy to crack those//
cuz on the mic im nice, aight, you, really are wack tho//
I can tell that he swallows, yo this kid don’t spit hardly//
Is he the Beverly hills ninja, or the twin of Chris Farley?//
Ill run up in ya home & crush ya bones just for fuckin wit Joe//
Yo fuck a 16, ill bust ya spleen wit the production alone//
I keep heat tucked in a duffle, case I get stuck in a scuffle//
But right now I feel like laughin, Yo chunk, do tha truffle shuffle//
This blubber gut fuck sucks, Heat gave you a quick death//
This pricks dead, ayo Brandon, who you want me to rip next?//
ha ha