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Lyrics
You can laugh cause I'm fat and get baked a lot
But the fact is your wack, old, and fake so stop
Tryin to rap man, you know you flopped
I know soda can flow, but pop cannot
You ain't past your prime, you sierra missed it
n Twisted like your hair, in the wind I barely shift
From your fake ass hits... Fake ass bitch!
Your hits is like ghosts, they don't even exist
oh, and everyone knows that no one is flowin like opey
so open your hole n continue to blow my load slowly
showly you understand as a man I cant stand by
and let a guy with a perm and a manacure whore me
shitll never happen, so again give up rappin
your bad at it, so drop it like its a bad habit
I ain't mad atcha but dammit I've had it
your the wackest on rap battles with vet status
If you the baddest then ya know that i'm a prodigy
Your wack like Jae Cyph's flow, style, and quality
and for that disgrace you owe rap an apology
followed by a slap for mascaradin as a black
its so sad to see the former leader of regime
gettin whored by the reason that your crew was at its peak
How you gonna lead with no credibilty
You the next degree of a text emcee
I hope god forgives me for battlin little richie
I remember explicitly all the shit that u said to me
like how net chicks got your mind in a twist
Well atleast ur wig is, but see the thing is
if I was a middle aged bitch wit two kids
Id give up this rap shit n take care of them
Yous a feminine half white MC, your soft
go back to typin... your mic is better off
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