Rap g

Let's start this flow off, with some wack-ass show off

Bitches wouldn't survive in my trenches, they would just blow off

I'm killer, I'm deadly, I'll kill the mic with words,

They hear this shit and they take to the sky like birds

I'm a craftsman, I don't blame my tools or these fools

But that doesn't mean I don't like these rules or these schools

It's bitches like you that take these lines to the head

Take em to bed, or better yet wind up dead

Cause it's the truth that I'm spitting, lyrically ripping

Cause if I catch you slipping, you throat will be slitting

I rhyme these words on beat flawlessly

Killing bitches like you, that's my policy

You can't spit your words, they're fallacies

My fame spread out, into different galaxies

I'm too big for my own body

I'm too good for karate or to embody

a type of person to steal your shatwy in my Bugatti

But I don't set my standards too high

But while you bitches are low, I'm touching the sky

I ain't afraid to ask God what's why

I ain't afraid to die when the end is nigh

I ain't afraid to rip you faggots up, piece by piece

When I'm spitting, out comes the fucking beast

Kicked your ass in the first two lines, here comes the three peat

I'll slice you up, like I worked at meat market

Using scarlet, painting on a your back a target

At your funeral, saying "Oh dearly departed"

Quick and clean, no MJ, no blood on the carpet

I draft curses in these verses

Curse you with a purpose

Purposely on purpose, writing curses in cursive