MC Majesty - Matty B Diss (Trying To Make It In A Business That Isn't Yours) lyrics

(Intro) Man, I at first felt proud for you, a kid making it rich But you went too far with the king crap you rapped about I need to put an end to this at the moment How can I accept this? Sure a random boy is here, but… just listen The crowd should start applauding By the time you start recording They leave and I win because they know yours's is boring Instead the first girlfriend You meant B-O-Y You got the words mixed up and I think I know you why You didn't want to seem bad to the crowd you perform and flow You can't make it to the award show Because I'm in full war mode The closest to god you made is with your god awful covers and songs That's why in this beef, I'm going to love it all You called yourself a king When in reality, you're just a selfish being Trying to make it in a business that isn't yours You should have been a carpenter like your father and try to fix floors You should the put the mic down before mad It's in my former name, I dare you to respawn before I react Coming from the 6th borough city I sell rhymes in New York City, a rhyme for $4.50 You only went for this for the men involved You want to fall in love and do things a boy your age shouldn't know of Let's take this to coliseum I pay for tickets, on the house, just because I want to see him The scrawny little boy, who's older than me just by a month Let's take this outside, not in the back, but in the front I sick of that voice That belongs to an even younger boy I should shut it for you, so you won't make any noise You were forced to use the money from your own dad I snatch your book of rhymes, stop reading from a notepad You need to call the police officers and the ambulance You still lie in bed, wondering, “Do I stand a chance?” Let me save your breath You have nothing, stay in second, I stay the best Even if I lose one battle in our beef I win the war, because I make more battles, always standing on my feet Of course you have more subscribes That's why I decrease, by breaking your design And your poor mind, breaking you from your rhymes Save it for another beef, for another time And that's if people actually don't want to diss I have guts, I aim my lyrics like rockets, at my target, your apartment Aimed at the whole state of Georgia Down to Florida All the way west into California You went from Matty B to tragedy You done f'ed up to go against the king, majesty Our names rhyming is the only thing in common I take your career rocket and veer it into a comet Making the loudest of seen or heard explosives That's why you should multiply my power by the exponents Yours is divided like segregation Against my presentation I take snatch your cash and use you as a representation How I make people drive people into insanity You little F… let me get no profanity I'm too much of a gentlemen to fight little girls Wearing high heels, go back to painting your nails The whole hospital is going to have to take care of you They place stitches on you, have the whole crowd stare at you You belong on the streets I bet you prolonged a beef No one had the guts to do I did until this week If you just so happen to see me in the big apple You better run, don't look back unless you want to battle And get your bu*t kicked You don't want to punch him Or else you will get thrown on the street for touching him The master, the author I'm blasting all horror Toward matty b in the beauty parlor I'm a bat out of hell My name will soon ring bells I'm the one who cracked the liberty bell With a small tap With my mic, to say you're a king is bull crap I descend from my throne To enter your home Enter your dome I cast spells and as I said before You better respond, before I get mad React Your bring lumberjacks with a rubber axe I bring a mic strung high on my back The closest to the top you've been Is not by hip-hopin' It's with your ugly looks, while I mix hip toppings I remain leader, and this is me just being honest While you all are just remakes of miss poppins Little nannies Running home to your grannies With your Grammies While y'all are spitting and pissing in your pampers I lost myself, let's go back to you, little kid in the back corner You had the chance to avoid this, but you didn't want to Now, I'm not saying I'm a king But I'm close and you're nowhere near, because you flat out stink Speaking of flat out, your voice is as flat as cement I throw you face in Flat as a pancake, flat out is your face on the pavement You dress indecent Matty B, you are just rewritten Of other rappers, so don't compare to me while I be spitting So while I'm still breathing, just listen You need to run away from home, I'm on a life or d**h mission Because I'm just about to lose my breath But I would rather die, than call you the best You remain last Even if I play last Stop trying to be good at rapping, just stay bad There's no point in beating a dead horse So I'll just step off and let you go until the next chorus (………………………………) Ha-Ha, you actually believed I would stop I only came at you because I was sick of beefing with cops I wanted to work with Pete Rock And perfect my beat box And seeking my hip hop And beefing with such low life ballerinas So, are you an enough to come back at me But remember, you continue There's no holding the majesty……