Artist: D to the S
Album: Talent Fest compilation
Song: Dissing These Fools
You could s** a dick with ya lip
But that still don't make your mouth.. Wiiide enough
Or big enough to dis
The sh** done got me piss
Some n***a from New Jersey, the T-neck
Won't give us our respect
So watch me wreck and eject
That Naughty by Nature sh** from my tape deck
I hate Treach, watch a nga from the ILL state flex
And break necks of those emcees
That wouldn't notice notice me
Claim to give me my props
But standing on the video with Jodeci
Didn't know you the beat down?
You had to lose to R&B sound
Dissin the T-O-X I cease town
You catch a beat down, he found
Police protection
But I burn em like an STD erection
Or a yeast infection
Hit em when he's least expectin
He'll be correctin every word
As my feet meet his rectum
And now he's crying 'boo-hoo'
As I manifest like the Guru
Got the half the NY soundin wack as you do
I dont think you knew the consequence
When you come against, ngas with lyrical dominance
Use some common sense
Or I'mma pinch more than a inch
From your gut when I buck a shot
Ya sweet like bu*tascotch
Call my city wack, but it's not
Another s**a got dropped
Cause he wouldn't give me my f**in props
***
2....
If Treach is a quest to test us
He'll feel the hollow point through the breast of
His vest thrust and make his chest bust
I'm unimpressed, thus, with his best cuts
He just addressed us, because he's all on ngas out west nuts
I guess guts compensate for the sk** he lacks
While he makes silly tracks
I make thick cuts like hemophillacs
He really acts hard sportin Master locks
But I bet the Ghetto ba*tard jocks when you pa** the Glock
And if his a** could box, why the chainsaw?
All these gimmicks is the main flaw - I came raw
While he sings about a kitty cat, so f** that sh** he spat
My city's phat, it's a pity that the nga won't admit hes wack
Where's his titties at, cause that's what b**hes grow
f** a flow, to his girl I throw a vicious blow, so the stiches show
So let these b**hes know CHI being wack ain't the f**ing case
Duck in haste, cause I might spit right in your f**ing face
***
3...
They say a chain is only as strong as its weakest link
And you're just that, so f** what some Naughty ngas think
Yo, tell me what's on your mind callin my city wack?
You must've robbed the dope man and smoked a fifty sack
Of that crack, you need a fix, son
Why smoke a gla** dick when you could s** a big a** dick like this one?
Cause when I come I'm cumming on your face
Ya lyricals ain't flowin and on top of that your tracks ain't got no ba**
I can't stand when muthaf**as try to test my sh**
Unless I hit with em face to face and he'll see how fresh I get
I admit I should've took time to hear him out
But why when I go to a party of emcees and clear em out
You hear about dozen Treach's kick that same old sh**
I dont think they tangle with
A nga that'll chop a ngas head off
Is how I let off some steam
Get it off my chest
But give that a punk a bandage for his wounded chest