Tick-Tock-Slaughterhouse EP

Yeah (Illa, Illa, Illa)

Just gonna, write down my first thoughts, see where this goes

'Cause I feel like I could kill the damn world right now

 

Yeah, let me explain how to quit with the lameness

'Cause if you don't, you ain't ever gonna be famous

Ain't no mumblers allowed, but mumble if you say shit

'Cause if I hear it, gonna take the words, shove 'em down your throat

Sit back, and watch you choke, the same outcome as you on the mic

Full magazine of knowledge, read, the knowledge 'll got straight to your head

I'm savage, but I can't manage to hear you spit

It's literal shit, shit, you getting it?

No?

Well pay attention, learn your lesson

'Cause my powers ain't gonna lessen

 

Motherfucker, shut the fuck up when I'm talkin', lil' bitch

I'm sorry, hold up, what's your skill?

Oh, nothing, so you're gettin' skilled

Lyrically getting killed, guts just spilled

Oh, bitch, "quit spitting 'bout killing"

Man, who the fuck are you

To comment on my shit when every single single you put out is shit

Motherfucker, repent, 9 lives are spent

So just try and keep up, if you don't, you're left in the dust

Imma hit the thrust, get out of here, your bars are a bust

So hold your dick, try not to bust and for once

SHUT THE FUCK UP

'Bout my thick thighs, redirect your eyes

Unless you ready to meet your demise

Not here to compromise, you've got zero tries left

You could say you're effed

No one gonna survive, unless you're deaf

I can see why people like Travis Scott, but not me, nope

I don't roll the autotune, just not my flow, nope

 

Jam a mic down your throat

Don't want to watch you mope 'cause you're not the GOAT

Don't wanna hear the shit you wrote

'Cause I know it's not cutthroat

Bitch if you was a boat, you wouldn't float

You wouldn't get a single vote if you was on a poll

And every bomb that you tote, don't blow, just fucking smoke

Goin' broke, no more coke, now you're just a joke

So take your cloak, get the fuck out before you invoke me

The monster is sick of sleeping, I'm awake

I wanna do some reaping, got your body icy

Yeah, I'll tell you what I see

Megurine gettin' icy on the M-I-C

'Cause they see me reloading

And I'm 'bout to get going, so drop your shit after you take a piss

Or get dissed, I will not miss when I shoot that bitch

(Ooh-ooh)

 

Well last week, a dumbass left a comment on my channel

Saying that my writing makes me look I'm three

And that I think flannel is drip, and that I can't fuckin' spit

And added a link to the MMLP sayin' it would make me better

(ooh-ooh)

I replied and told the bitch write a line or two

Or get offline before my fire turns to you

 

So finger-gun, Kelly with a man bun, Rambo with a bad gun

Gonna make 'em cringe like I just made a bad pun

I should scope in on everyone, ain't it fun?

I've got 'em scared, see me, and they run

Got the infrared, playing around, but this ain't a toy gun

And the rumor is that I'm fucked up but

You're about to get fucked up

Sayin' shit to me was a fuck up

Now you're gone, start the clean up

Lil bitches so expectant, like they pregnant, mhm

I guess when you walk into Arby's you expect a Beef-n-Cheese

You can order a Buttery Jack when you go to Jack in the box

And if you full of shit, you can suck on these

And if your hands are sweaty like they're buttery

Then you can get in the ring and box with me

But y'all acting like I ain't a fighter

But the closest thing you get to being on fire

Is when you playing with a lighter

And your "heavy bars" couldn't get lighter

Contact your ghost writer, 'cause he sucks

 

Y'all acting like I made it personal then tried to steal your girl

Maybe if I'd just repeated every other line you'd call it a number one

But you just fucking keep acting like this a pissing contest, you keep taking number ones

Claiming how Drake had more number ones and platinums

By the time that I was one, and how Lil Nas is better than anyone

But montero can get out my playlist, don't wanna listen to that shit

You mad? get over it, or are you gonna throw a fit

Saying that you're insulted 'cause I name dropped Lil Nas X

Harder than your mom dropped you on your head

But now your heads filled up with lead

Like you took a chug from Flint, Michigan

And it's like I just threw in a line, and you're a fucking fish (catfish)

But you missed the line because you're fucking blind

And you didn't even realize these last lines rhymed

Goddamn, someone get this bitch a sign

 

"Aw, man! That Megurine diss track was ass, it was garbage, it was trash

This bitch can't rhyme a motherfucking thing!"

Shout to all my mumble rap people, each and every one of y'all

If you call Lil pump a king,

Or think the most important thing is bling

"Dawg, those bars shit, Lil pump way better, he's the shit!

"k, Drakes a maverick!" "No it's not, bitch, that's me!"

 

So finger-gun, better run

Brooks and Dunn, Maverick Carter, Logic, premadonna

MGK fans gonna hate anyway

Don't matter what the fuck I say

In the end I'm still gonna fucking slay

Gimme your seat, I'm here to fucking stay

Hating on me, 'cause I be fucking gay

Goddamn, who asked you anyways?

Gimme play of the game

'Cause I'm on a kill streak, and I'm not gonna take a break

I wanna play a fucking game, like I'm saw

 

And I think this shit's working

'Cause Megurine do be lurking in the shadows

These verses making them get nervous

Then they here it, and they curse it

But Luka won't answer me with words

'Cause they'll get lyrically murdered

But at least I pissed 'em off

'Cause Luka just gave Migraine zero stars

Must've gotten to their heart, call it SARS

But they can still respond, but if they don't

They're officially dead and gone

Hey Luke, Tick-tock

Tick-tock