(verse 1 nerve and skrub)
Ayo hush son
Or get the fu*k up
Catch me in the back of the club i'm putting my ones up
A numb nut banging my track in the back of dump trucks
Like wassup
Screws up in my cat like im a monster
Yo fu*k a punter in the crowd
Catch me at the pokie stacks
Cause it's a gamble for these rappers if they think they dope with tracks
Without a feature
You ain't getting on my flow son
Cause who said you were dope…
No one!
I'd be lying if i said i wasn't in it for the moolah
Get the crowd like ooh-rah
Yeah only spat a two bar
But thе sh*t was too hard
Kill it like im on a spree
Atop the scenе plotting schemes like a monogon
The slim shady look alike
That high voice wanna be
Got them gold fingers james bond it like i'm connery
I don't wanna see the schemes that you've written
You ain't married to the game so i can't fu*k with you like judism
Yeah sounding like a yank (hmm)
Kinda wack man
You jumping in the cypher like t-t-t-team backpack
Ayo scratch that
I put skinny crackers on the map lad
Ya trap rap's toxic catch me rocking a hazmat
You think your life just to party
Then watch me crash that
Rocking up in matte black with my pen and pad packed
Crowd going bap bap
Like wombat when i drop raps
Yo and just like him you best believe i'm where the bongs at
Aye clock that
I'm always on track
When i work the whip
Murking clicks
When i turn a spliff to a verse that's sick
I'm wondering how many rappers in my furnace fiits
All of em!
Cause i burn em quick till they turn and crisp
I murder kids if i haven't seen em earn a stripe
Cause i comrade rappers with the way i murder mics
Represent the ugly punk with a dirty mind
With a face that makes girls i like wanna turn to dykes
(verse 2 nerve and skrub)
Yo we party and then we bullsh*t
Say you pack a gat never seen you pull it
I smack em back to school kid
Smashing tracks
Back to back
Classic raps
Lad you should practise that
Matter fact catch a slap
It's the action packed
Braniac with the magic pad
Think your rap is fat
Man i'm natural as my habitat
Yeah i got you backtracking like a map on some manny pack when i smack a cat till he's flashing back
Like acid tabs got you tripping when i spit a verse
I'm sick with words always leave em in a clinic burnt
Tell me go to hell nah i bring the whole thing to work cause these other rappers got no drive unless they're in a hearse
Think you're ill with verbs cause you're a drill rapper
I could rap overdosed on smack but you're still wacker
Pill packer on some dumb type rap
Your album ain't a hit son where's the punch lines at
Yeah i heard your sh*t
Didn't understand one line spat
Sir if you think about dissin' better run right back
This ain't just some hype track
We stay real on the regular
Say what you want but you still ain't impressing us
We steez it up
Greasy punks that never eat enough cause every emcee we see they flee or maybe been at lunch
For this past year on every single day week or month so soon theres gonna be no more rappers left in the scene but us
Trust cause you know it's nerve the verbal murderer
Serving up words for the purpose of murking these herbs with a burner
You learn from the worst i serve a sermon in the urban verse
Leaving nerds reserved and then return with a curse for the earth
Ugh
Tell em right now it's too easy
So catch me put the scene in a box like houdini