(coughs)
They say these bars are like covid, you get em right off the bat
These sh*ts will rupture your noggin, just like a sinus attack
b*tches be tryna come at me, why would you try to do that
b*tch you get eviscerated, before you even try to react
I’m back with the sh*ts, hoe
Bar-strapped, lyric gat to your temple
When i snap it is not accidental, like a strap on the fu*kin back of your ripped clothes
Motherfu*k a rarri, get a ‘lac or a benzo
b*tch, i spaz with the pencil
Raps will go mental
Wrath of a schizo
Battle me, then go
Laugh when the sh*t goes
Back on you ten fold
When i hear that bass thump in my beyers
I’m lookin’ at you like lunch has arrived
Cub to a lion, i always hunt for my tribe
Puncture and prying, i’ll fu*kin’ rupture your spine
Trust me, i’ll pop open my trunk and then i’ll dump you inside b*tch
Get the pump, or the 9 then you can get trumped with the .45
If you never fu*kin’ with my music, b*tch bye then
God of terrors, cause hysterics and you all will perish
I’ll be at your service, i’ll appall the bearers. and i never missed, so it’s a lotta bodies, it’s a body party, better call ciara, sh*t, i’ll fu*k around and leave em’ all embarrassed, you the type to go and call a sheriff, sh*t, you all are fairies. shut up b*tch, i’m speaking i’m kamala harris
co*kin’ these verses, and i love to see ‘em drop with each word spit
I’m so suave it’s a curse b*tch when i walk, even when i talk it’s in cursive
Aye hop on kirk’s dick, then takeoff like kirshnik
Durn it, stop the absurd sh*t
I have been cursed with the thoughts of a wordsmith
They say these bars are like zika, i got this sh*t in my blood
Should probably call me john gotti, got arms on my body like they tryna give me a hug
You’ll be at the end of your rope when i pull it, so don’t make me give it a tug
b*tch it’s war, if you crossing my line, then i’m dragging you; period, b*tch i’m not giving a fu*k
She said i only want if the dicks insane, trick, i’m hung like a picture frame
b*tch you’re done, when the pencil spray
Spit them slugs when i fu*kin’ grip them thangs
Where i grew up all the kids would say vicious names, made me wanna get a k, click and aim, pop another clip and bang, shoot the whole class; call it picture day
The audacity of half of these rappers
Laughably wack mcs think they can clash with me and practically strain
When i’m dragged in beef, but when i’m writing disses back, i be
Half asleep at applebee’s, that’s actually, naturally, why they call it a casualty, cause i be killin’ y’all casually
Can’t stop now i’m heated
Pistol to ya face b*tch, that’s how you’re greeted
You really wanna play? then bring a beat and i’ll eat it, im never leaving a crumble, each single meal is completed
Never leaving til i see all you retreated
b*tch i can never be beaten, don’t ever call me conceited ‘cause you know that
Bar for bar, i’m never bein’ defeated
If i ever was, i’d log in your sh*t and fu*kin’ delete it