just a battle

I whoop ass just like Cassius Clay,

This dude that's spittin is ass and prey,

Battlin me will be your last mistake.

I buss tables for a living,

so its only right when I'm done with you I clean my plate.

And feed your bones to my pal Dre, who escaped a correctional

facility just last Wednesday.

He was locked up for killing an orphanage of children on Christmas

Eve and chopped em into pieces, assorted them on the Christmas tree.

Slit their throats with a rusty cleaver, gave the owner a Cleveland

Steamer and smeared his crusty feces on her musty beaver.

So please take it easy? I'm just me being me G, Ain't easy being Deezy.

But these pills I pop make me feel unstoppable,

Rip out her vocal cords, so her screams are inaudible.

Not plausible, but really possible, you're no obstacle for me.

You are not suitable for this dude, your bars are fucking doo doo.

I rap like I got a screw loose, damaged my ramen noodle.

This battle's futile for you dude, you stink like fucking poo poo,

crapped into a fucking vagina, queefed in a fucking sewer.

I'm the best rapper, bitch remember it,

ain't no rappad member contending it.

You'll get slaughtered for fucking pretending to be a real MC,

And get pounced on by this 8 headed monster, face full of disbelief.

I cease to decease even after walking through that acid rain.

That maddening pain, comes more often than Curry's ankle sprains.

Break the chains of mental, social and racial barriers.

Ain't the same courage it used to be, dudes are scarier.

Simp and plain, rappers get tossed into dirty hampers.

You gone limp in pain after you bodied bagged like a sleeping camper.