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If such a thing exists as being such a king as this |
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Sluts pucker up, to kiss the ring and fist |
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The rhyming vet, the livest yet |
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Drop fly shit like a G-4 private jet |
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Bet you get more than grazed by the nine |
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Layed by the side |
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Oh you out of bullets? Here, take some of mine |
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And clowns hate how I lock this down |
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If they think I'm obnoxious now, wait til I pop Cristal |
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Got one need, to just smoke out |
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But if your weed's got one seed, the shit don't count |
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Dog, you don't want us running home. |
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You don't want it Holmes. If you a 'G' |
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You as silent as the one in front of Gnome |
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And you can love me, or you can judge me |
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But dissin me's like, Beetlejuice in a cape, Super Ugly |
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Trust me, I'ma shit on my foes |
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And sit on my throne |
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So hop off my dick and get on your own |
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[hook x2] |
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O-H-I-O, no place like home |
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Everywhere I go, I relocate my throne |
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Roll it up. Light it up. Fire it up |
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Bring a bitch to the telly and get high as **** |
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Schatz got me upchuckin in a cut buzzin |
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Might spit about the same shit, but then again |
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Who the **** doesn't?!?! |
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When writers fed, bite his lead, or we can fight instead |
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And **** a can, we open whoop ass by the keg |
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Tell your boys to get your lame crest on |
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Wanna rip together? Y'all can share the same headstone |
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And it's rarely ever that I bury pairs together |
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But I'm ruthless. |
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I did it with ease like Jerry Heller |
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So if you mention me, |
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You fairies better levitate or jump a fence from me |
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Seven eight's a heavyweight, like pregnancy |
|
And you can die in a coupe with dark tint |
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COPY! Shoot the sky til the moon is dark red |
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STOP ME! You could try, but I move at mach 10 |
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WATCH ME! Superfly from the booth like Clark Kent |
|
COPY! Doctor Strange when I'm on the ??? |
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The vets I roll with will put your dogs to sleep |
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Puff five blunts straight to the brain |
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Jakki's got one five one through a pump straight to the vein |
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Sights a bit wrecked. |
|
I ain't even light the spliff yet |
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And already my eyes are bloodshot like a crips set |
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[hook x2] |
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Y'all cats ain't never gonna advance, I'm big headed |
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Got an even bigger ego for the one in my pants |
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Lames hurtin. |
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I aim perfect for opponent's heads |
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Still in charge like a cordless phone is dead |
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Only writin four bar verses now. REASON?? |
|
Can't get past the fifth line without the crowd screamin |
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Y'all don't rhyme, y'all bitch. Dick in mouth even |
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Only time y'all spit's when you spittin out semen |
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Hope you're ready bastards, |
|
My prose already classic |
|
And like laffy taffy I got a joke on every rapper |
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You hold your own? NO YOU DON'T |
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I'll let you shit first, when I start shittin the toilet overflows |
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And I ain't quittin six four, dyin hittin chicks raw |
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In the Hyatt on the fifth floor with her hymen splittin |
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So bet the money you got MY ALBUM'S LIKE HELL! |
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You don't know when it's comin but you know it's gonna be hot |
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[hook x2] |
