By: Syre
Tellin� me my rappin� needs to be more serious
I could hit you with flows so bad, make ya all delirious
Hit ya so hard, you can barely stand
That�s what ya get, for fuckin� wit� da Man!
Bitch, ya wanna go to rhyme battle?
I�ma make the bones in yo� head rattle
Hit ya so fast, ya gon� get jet lag
And I�ma send ya home in a mother fucking body bag!
You�re gonna overdose and choke off these rhymes I wrote
I come spittin� poison game, ya ho! And there ain�t no antidote
Betta git goin�, damn it, it�s yo last chance
Cuz I ain�t playin� wit� yo bitchass!
Y�all don�t wanna fuck wit� dis
Talkin� stupid shit�ll get yo ass hit
All y�all bitches is stupid
And I ain�t the fucka to fool wit�
I can get in yo� lungs, make ya sneeze and cough
Or I can huff and puff and blow you�re fucking head off!
All ya wanna do is laugh and scoff
Bitch ya pissin� me off
But ya in for a surprise
Everyone avert yo� eyes
You don�t wanna see what I do to these guys
Turn yo� back on me, another fucker dies
I ain�t amused with yo� mother fuckin� lies
Ya better say your goodbyes
Ya did some shit that wasn�t wise
And so you�re on your knees, lookin� up to the skies
Beggin� me for a compromise
Get up! I�m not phased by yo� cries!
It�s time to meet your demise
I�m the mother fucka they all despise
But complications arise
My plan�ll have to be revised
Where�s my gun? Fuck it! I�ll have to improvise
I�ll just talk out one of my knives
Hear you screamin� like a fucka getting� re-circumcised
Without anesthetic
You�re pathetic
My rhymes�ll have ya pissin� yo pants
Like you�re on a diuretic
(Poof) Here I go (poof poof) Here I go (poof poof) Here I go
Y�all ain�t ready though!
(Poof) Here I go (poof poof) Here I go (poof poof) Here I go
When Steve Monroe hits the do�
Y�all fuckas ain�t ready though
EEEE POOF!
