Battle 3

Heads up I'mma hit you lickity split

Sit down and slit your wrists

Puff the blunt and then hit the lick

Put my dick up to your lips but just the tip

 

Logically, I'm probably a rap prodigy

It's hard to see, but the skill is definitely a part of me

These bars could be

As hard as a tree

As stiff as this D

It'd be like smacking your mouth with solid concrete

So don't be puffing your chest out when you walk around me

Everyone knows your just a stupid punk B

 

Yo who the fuck this guy think he is for trying to rap against me?

You bars fucking suck even when you lip sync.

Slow sink, can't breath, no remorse, don't think

Got a sheathe over the sword and about to release cuz yo breath stink

I got funky sheets from bumping beats

From smacking cheeks between your girlfriends knees

Ain't nothing to me, but if you want something, speak.

Won't start nothing but I'll end it, believe.

I'll have you on your knees on a complete different degree

I'll have a gun up to your mouth, call it the glock-oma disease.

Mouth open wide and still no room to plea.

Doubt I'll pull the trigger? You don't mean shit to me.

My funky flow is sicker, than anyone could concieve.

I'll slap your face with glitter, you might look less fairy

Better yet I'll knock your ass out with Cinder, leave you alive barely.

They call me Shaggy, the microphone villian

I'm just here for the baggy, ready to go to neverland

Don't step up to me, you'll feel more than one.

I'll have people wanting to shoot you up worse than Darren Wilson