Ya thought I was feeling you? What the fuck is a munch. All I know is dealing through, starving like it for lunch. For my rep, pure my prep, is but not this step. Carving a whole bunch of pain, I’m insane, yep. Ya thought I was killing you? Well hell, call me Jack The Ripper. I pack a clipper, PG13 clip ya. Better follow or the hollow getting through to you. Ahhh stop, I ain’t ever gon’ pop. Dropping bodies like the Saudi’s would waste my talent. Copping shotties just some copy and paste, not gallant. And that’s what I am, damn right I know that. But I gotta lotta ways to phrase where my flow at. I can beat you at your own game, checkers. Not chess, I got this, you the building, I’m the wreckers. Demolishing ya shit, I’m polishing the hit. Just for yapping that my rapping ain’t at all lit. Y’all bit the bait, I get the plate and none left. Let you get greedy, I’m a lethal threat like Idi. Amin, I been on the strong kinda posture. Yet they bet I ain’t all that and I’m ass, sure. A done theft of this shit, highway robbery. The way I slay on this shit, it’s my day, sobbery. From the dumb, ones who haters, bitch I ain’t doing favors. My style never caters to debaters, naysayers.
Ya thought I was feeling you? What the fuck is a munch. All I know is dealing through, starving like it for lunch. For my rep, pure my prep, is but not this step. Carving a whole bunch of pain, I’m insane, yep.
Ya thought I was feeling you? What the fuck is a munch. All I know is dealing through, starving like it for lunch. For my rep, pure my prep, is but not this step. Carving a whole bunch of pain, I’m insane, yep.
