Abstract

Hop on the track and attack shit

with hyperactive tactics

We savage, running the tracks bitch

aand yall mothafuckas tryna match this

wellllllll if you add it up,

subtract all your wack shit

still aint half of us

these misfit hatin bitches

thinking they getting me quitting

but that shit is falsee

Reefer twistin,

dub of lung splitting,

got me thinking

got me spitting it RAWW

fuck up this shit, dropping ya JAW

Light up the spliff

screaming fuck the LAWW

born to fuck up the mic

roll the strong tight

and a mothafucka living

All the trap rappas claiming they shitting

dont get me started

cause they retarded and im

fly without the carpet

the pen gets sharpened

with every little scribble

matador of the riddles

little by little the game gets widdled

in the PRISON in my mind

cause this life im living aint mine

 

 

 

 

 

 

This ain't no fairytale but you know it fairly well

It's the petty penniless fresh peasant

Moving on to the next antidepressant

shake that fanny undressing

In a second Ingest dick in the rectum bitch with the septum licked up and down spit on erection new cheif in town like I rigged the election

Sleep on the boy while I dig to perfection deep in the cut like a fucking c section ducking police all forms of correction born to the world spread like infection weed I inspect like natural selection

and...

she back for seconds hacked up looking real nice like the blade cut twice shaded in the night wearing all black feeling quite right but his skin white so he can't rap but admit that he's alright and he cause a fright in spite of the life he recite on the mic

Right? Wrong. You're dead motherfucking wrong