[Intro]
Yessir
I am the one and only
305 to 954, 561
You brought this on yourself lil n***a
Lets go
[Verse 1: LMS]
This is LMS talking, one of florida's kings
Sending shots at the rap version of smeegle from the lord of the rings
Look, listen here, buddy, you are not from here, buddy
So when someone like me speaks its something you should hear, buddy
Keep it hood from day one, I ain't roll with you clown
But in my hood you ain't need security showing you round
So my question is real simple, I ain't joking around
Yo, how the f** you diss a city that was holding you down
You should be met with a switchblade you ingrate p**y
And pimp-slapped with baby powder you b**h-made p**y
I would challenge you to a fight, but wouldn't I?
When this little motherf**er's only 5 foot 5?!
Forreal my n***a, f** all the nonsense
I don't know what's more annoying, dawg your voice or your napoleon complex
Are you stupid bruh, I don't understand it, man
How you challenge a city when you couldn't even handle a cameraman?
You looking thirsty and mad hungry b**h
Dressed like a hipster that's colorblind and mad bummy b**h
Oh woah you a blood, now? You mad funny, b**h
Just a couple years ago, n***as was cash money crips
Now you soo-whoopin and Piru
But before all you were wearing was tye-dye blue
sh** Dawg, you got something to say about my place?
Then get on a step ladder and then say it to my face
I should rock-bottom clothesline this n***a
To the city of new orleans, do yall still co-sign this n***a?!
Even though he shot himself in the chest wit his own nina
And left his hometown hangin after hurricane katrina!
Dawg, you're a phony a fraud, you're a ho you're a broad
And after this, I hope no one f**s with you home or abroad
You're a super lame, and a superclone
Who deserves to be on the street s**ing dick like Superhead by the Superdome
To call you a f*g, that ain't equal
Cause calling you a f*g is actually disrespectful to gay people
This has nothing to do with s** or pa**ion
And unlike you, gay people actually have a sense of fashion
You look like the clothing section of a target blew up
Came out of the closet, and I bet you're f**ing closet threw up
To diss my city boy, you took a crazy route
Every other word is a curse, do you kiss baby with that mouth?
Little n***a consider this as a loss
A verbal form of crucifixion with no hammer and cross
You are not 2Pac, you got your sh** wrong
But you can consider yourself Emmett Till after this song!
Respond or not, your a** is history chump
And it's perfectly right on time for Black History month
It's 305 till I die, boy this isn't a trend
This is just a lesson to never diss my city again!
Motherf**er!