BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Mythodical diss track
- mythodical on the track? dont make me laugh
- maybe if you talking bout cross country laps
- otherwise i advise that you drop this shit
- you'll never get famous reading mitch's script
- nobody wondering how a kid like you got by
- you talk about drugs but youve never been high
- you look like a caucasian version of elmo
- cant see you in the halls cause you come up to my elbow
- oh, and you already know i got that monster flow
- and i dont think you know but i boned your hoe
- kick you out the picture like taekwando
- mister big shot? more like mister lil shit
- im lyrically devouring you like a sandwich
- you put our city on the map? nigga are you serious?
- do you even know what a map is, you motherfucking idiot?
- yeah you slimy, thirsty, nasty, got herpes
- sucking up to these bitches like they a slurpee
- the glizzies on deck and blizzies always lit
- you want a bite of the pie
- but you cant get a piece of shit
- we in the second round now homie keep ya head up
- let's play some pong homie ill show you a death cup
- shut up or get shot up, yung Slav on that come up
- yo bitch knock on my door when she wanna get fillt up
- send her home after i spillt a nut
- my rhymes massive like Brazilian butts
- then i let rain a million slugs
- fuck with me, i got a million thugs
- get lost in puddle of blood
- fuck around get smoked like a royal
- youre a phony; snake oil
- light up your street like a coil
- now i dont know as much as some, thats true
- but i grew up in the struggle, beef stew
- so i can't stand fake rappers like you
- you dont even know half the shit i was put through
- but i pulled through, turned nothing to something
- youre just becoming something disgusting
- its like cookies, you say that youre chocolate chip
- but i scoped your style, its raisins in that bitch
- nah, i aint tripping tho, straight spittin yo,
- it aint paper written no, chopper grippin (Oh no)
- meanwhile youre lane switchin, story stichin
- slippin, leave you cane in hand straight limpin
- bars cut deep like a surgical incision
- bag flippin, lick hittin, slick dippin
- double cup fulla lean sippin
- but ima back off, stop spittin
- before turpin tells me its my fault youre quittin
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