Fulton County Rapper
• Written by Kennaye
// Hey you know what I think is funny?
// When a fat kid thinks he's hard
// And his ass is fluffier than my mf pillo
// Hahahahaha
In and out, in and out
My dick, your bitches mouth
Well, that ain't really true
Cuz You don't get bitches, dude
The only thing you'll get is the clap
Go home and beat your meat, fap fap fap
Maybe one day you'll get a ghetto girl
Type you bring home to ma and she hurls
First as in puke and then as in you
Out her door on the end of her shoe
Her foot up your ass, that feelin' youre used to
Type of girl you get probably kiss that boo boo
Hahahahaha
Why keep on stuntin
Why keep on frontin
We all know youre bullshit
Who just thinks he's somethin
A fat little bitch spittin nothin'
Open your eyes and adjust your budget
You have don't have money, actin like you allergic
You ain't worked for this you don't even deserve it.
It almost brings a tear to my eye
That you still walkin' around, please die
This isn't a diss track man this isn't a shoutout
This is just me tryin to shut up your loud mouth
I do not care if it hurts or it offends you
I don't care if it makes you run home boo hoo hoo
I do not care if you go home and cry
I do not care if you drop off and die
It's about time for you stop playin this game
And admit to yourself that you're only a lame
It's about time to for you to consider your future
I'm killin these raps, call me the butcher
You're Garbage, just like Oscar the grouch
Sittin at home, never leavin your couch
It shows in your titties, bigger than bitches
Your stories childrens, mines rags to riches
I started with nothin not even a dad
You lost everything and ain't even mad
You rap like you somethin' when really you're not
I rap like I'm the sun cuz my bars are so hot
I have more to my future than tryin to rap
Your sights so small, but you never been to trap
Guess that explains why you be needin those glasses
Then why can't you see I be kickin your asses
Yes asses, for there are multiple
You are so big you got multiple syllables
Hahahaha
Hear that laugh? It's the sound of your future
It's a joke in some ripped jeans and dirty T-shirt
Who's version of hustlin's a trip to the fridge
I don't need these bars, got that weight advantage
This isn't a diss track man this isn't a shoutout
This is just me tryin to shut up your loud mouth
I do not care if this hurts or it offends you
I don't care if it makes you run home boo hoo hoo
I do not care if you go home and cry
I do not care if you drop off and die
It's about time for you stop playin this game
And admit to yourself that you're only a lame
Nobody will fault you if you just stopped now
The most you'll get is prolly a "How?"
"Did he make it so long?"
"When every damn lyric in ever damn song..."
Sucked, more than your mom on a Saturday
This is what happens when little boys try to play
The game, when they can't even compete
On Canton blocks and country streets
Where the total rappers you'll find is like three
Well...I guess it's four now that you include me
Or is it still three, considering you're dead
Listenin to you has me fucked in the head
Might take some Tylenol for this migraine
Or might drink some bleach to clean out my brain
Anythings better than keepin your raps
Inside my head, only useful naps
Because your shit, will put me to sleep
Obviously all it does is make you eat
And eat and eat and eat and eat
Your BMI make the doctors go YEET!
This isn't a diss track man this isn't a shoutout
This is just me tryin to shut up your loud mouth
I do not care if this hurts or it offends you
I don't care if it makes you run home boo hoo hoo
I do not care if you go home and cry
I do not care if you drop off and die
It's about time for you stop playin this game
And admit to yourself that you're only a lame
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About the Artist
Kennaye
Member since November 10 2015