QUICK ETHER

Super duper ain't no trouper, mad because I'm dope,

So he challenged me, frontin' with the false hope,

He the type to drop soap on purpose so he can a cock, oh,

Got snow raps, CLAUS FLOW, dicks down ya throat,

Like a bronchoscope, my song's are dope,

If he thinks I'm wack, he's wrong, ya' know?

He's wack, How wack, though? Well, only god knows,

And I honestly feel bad for him,

Seeing all those numbers,

Brotha, I'll leave you praying to god like Ja's cover,

I won't let you suffer, I'll crush ya before you recover,

Leave you in the gutter, my flow smooth like butter,

I can't believe you'd go to the club with a rubber,

Cause the only one you fuck is your brotha,

Another fucka' wanna tussle so I'll take his little bitty ass up and

Swallow him like brussle, he takes it in his butthole

With tape all over him so his moans are muffled,

Take a cudgel to his face make a puddle of the blood from his vains,

I'm juggling the fame while you take it frontal in the brain,