Facetuface massacred by yours truly.
dope, ill, sick.
17 year old emcee from Toronto.
I also make beats, check em out at www.soundclick.com/merchantbeats
Lyrics
The last time we went and met it was facetuface (face to face)/
So this faggot got shook and went and changed his name/
You fuckin’ Eminem biting, no flow, despite the fact/
You’re still whack and you still can’t rap for shit/
So what now it’s like 2 years later/
And you sound like your nuts have been stuck in a refrigerator/
Don’t get mad at me ‘cuz I spit rhymes hard/
Than leave you more a-holes than a Scantron card/
Drop the hard shit – Rap ain’t your department/
That flow fits you like a GLOVE-compartment/
And I dun wanna know the extents of this dork/
‘Cuz he’s one “sick-fuck” like Cancer patient intercourse/
And yo FACE, how you gonna flow the hottest/
When you sound like you just came out the Trailer-Park closet/
I thought it looked cool on the FF2/
Than nearly threw up when I listened to you/
You’re fuckin’ horrible, you’re voice is whack/
And you’re beats, flow, and lyrics man ain’t exactly gettin’ your back/
Tell me why you rap about guns ‘n hoes/
When we both know you don’t have any of those/
And yo, let’s discuss your flow and hard-game/
By “discuss” of course I mean where the fuck are they?/
I saw your page, scrolled down, press play/
And let’s just say, the Spoon ain’t the only one that ran away/
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