Lyrics
I ain't even tryin hard, just writin short-bars
To 'rip up Ds' like my bad report-cards
You work-hard but everything that you dropped-sucks
Ya songs could be 'online ads' and still not pop-up
I'll whip you with a belt-clip and pin/pen you with a felt-tip
If I smell a loss, it's cuz who smelt-it, dealt-it
Every word I spit you know it damage-'n-harms
While you don't feel ya punches like you got mechanical-arms
If the site had a list about who's most respected
You'd 'get to the bottom of it' like a good detective
Tell me about your d, what's it for bud
Dumbass, dyke, dick, or just a dud
Ya get dissed when I play with words, I'll make a swell-cliché
He went and sold his soul now he's got hell-to-pay
Your voice is ok but you suck at writin bars
So next time you shouldn't show up like our site's avatars
