New South Coast
• Written by ribs
The new south coast, it's the new outpost
You shall toast if your crew can't show
I'm talking bout the bombest, nuke disarming
Stupid charming, ruthless harming
I've got you gripping walls like a freddy kreuger dream
Like Jason got you caught because he wants you to scream
You can't outrace me, or make me say things
You angsty plaything, my hate's degrading
Don't make me tap into all the crap
that has me trapped in this habitat
Im talking bout an ill mind, pill buyin
still crying lil child, who's lost his little while
Now i'm gripping necks, and now i'm splitting heads
Now i'm getting bets that i'll be getting checked
Well guest what, then, you pests, scum-heads
I'm pissed like sheets on pissed-on beds
You never can grasp it, my rap hits are blasted
Whether i spat shit, you probably will ask it
Now i'm spitting bars like your snickers expired
i'll let you catch up i just figured you're tired
Do not try to calm me, i'm cautiously walking
A-bombs dropping, napalm scalding
Holding on the mic with a frying pan handle mit
Flow's so hot even i can't handle it
Spitting every slow curse in a dope verse
check the brosure, this is my closure
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About the Artist
ribs
Member since February 26 2015