Real rap, Spittin true facts
young mc tryin to make it
Lyrics
I aint gonna say dat I hate ya trax
Complications, no hate, its jus str8 bassment raps
U getting no hos aint pimpin right
This a murda, im killin you like Simpsons wife
Its jus a thing, u cnt even think str8
Cuz im beatin ya ass, worse than the Rodney king tape
Im makin these fags breathe
Im getting reel grls, while u masterbate to makin the band 3
Ima burn this cat, u will earn ya murk
Im sendin you gone, like mase wen he returned to church
Im on dat outta control shit, try it
My rhymes is phat like anna Nicole smith b4 the diet
You aint even spit rough
You make up some shit, so u tough, like Sik does
Wen I win, is wen ull honor me then dude
Til then u makin me laugh like some shit on Comedy Central
U kno that this bomb hurts
Cuz im rappin ya mind up, and chewin on it like a starburst
You be weakenin, and be speakin soft
Each piece written he listens and hates to turn his speakers off
You aint a M.C
U makin fake personals, yet u got no hate against me
You tlk bout guns you gon try and cap me?
He aint gon pop crap only thing he popped was acne
