[Dead Head Hip-Hop]
Cal ain't got bars like that he just don't
MC Danglin Ballz got bars son
I'll k** your a**, bruh
I will k** you, I will literally f**ing k** you
I will drive to your house Cal, I don't give a f**
I own these streets
So Cal is walking on foreign territory
This ain't Monopoly bruh, you can't roll them dice again
[Intro: Myke C-Town]
Yo, it's your boy Myke C-Town, man
I didn't even wanna do this sh**, man
I don't have time to be f**ing around with wack rappers
So I called my boy MC Danglin Ballz to handle this sh** right quick, you know what I'm saying
Hey yo, Danglin Ballz
What up, mane?
Get him
[Verse 1]
I'm glad this b**h Cal set it off
Now I'm 'bout to show the world why your a** is soft
Had the nerve to call me out in some sh** a** song
Acting like we were tighter than Rick Ross in a thong, bruh
Get the f** outta here with that
We was cool way back but you have no idea what ruined that
Remember that night that I slept at your house
Played video games 'til I dozed off on the couch
Never told you homie, don't get mad, just listen
But your mom came in the room "talking 'bout what's good"
Sat there on the couch right next to your boy
Talking about "You're Cal's friend but I know you'll enjoy
Something a little sweeter than the milk and cookies
How's about some of this hot mom nookie"
I know it sounds crazy, don't trip, just peep it
Your mom threw off her robe showing her Victoria Secrets
She was rubbing me and then my pants felt a lift
Then she put me in her box like a Christmas gift
I tried to fight it, but I couldn't resist
Had to get my swerve on like an intoxicated cyclist
I'm really sorry Cal but I had no option
Your mom took me in like a formal adoption
I felt bad afterwards, told your dad after wards
Your parents had some words and they kicked me to the curb
Next thing I know y'all was moving off my street
Your pops was mad your moms like dark meat
Don't get mad that I got your mom's drawers
And she was all up on these dangling balls
[Interlude]
Cause yo, it's not my fault man
Don't blame me, blame the balls bruh
The balls got a mind of their own, you know what I'm saying
They like [?] up in this b**h man
They move around independently and heads turn, straight up
[Verse 2]
So now I get a sound where you're dissing me
Just because your s**y moms was kissing me
And you're talking about how you're missing me
Well bruh, let me how sh** be
Don't press your luck get f**ed, better duck
Cause I'm the type to pull up in a truck
Hanging out the window with a shotty so big
That it needs two triggers, you saw the vid
You need to realize you look crazy in my eyes
Going against someone with guns and balls this size
My gun so big, Incredible Hulk couldn't hold it
It's so f**ing ma**ive that Thor couldn't throw it
My gun so big, if I [?] in Washington
I could smoke a fool in Michigan or even cap an African
You better go back to Kazakhstan, you f**ing stan
Know what I'm saying, you need to understand
I'm not the one to play with a deflated basketball, man
[Outro]
But yo, all that talk
I need to say this before the song ends
Like forreal, like hey dude, I really do wanna be friends
I just wanna see your mom again, that's really what it is
Like forreal, can we kick it so like
I want you to tell your mom something, just tell her
"You'll never find as long as you live
Someone who f**s you like I do"
Word to Lou Rawls, this Danglin Ballz
Singing off on this sh** man, f** y'all motherf**ers
#LamesGetFlames, LamesGetFlames
Shout out to my motherf**ing boy Beezy motherf**ing 430
Dead End Hip-hop, we in this motherf**er
#f**Cal, but I'd rather f** Cal's momma
Peace
[Dead End Hip-Hop]
Yo, who you coming at?
I'm coming at Cal's neck
Who?
Cal's neck
Who dat?
Cal's neck
What's his last name?
Cal Chuchesta's neck
f** that n***a though
f** that motherf**er as a staff, record label, and a motherf**ing crew
He ain't ready, he ain't ready for this to go down like a f**ing virgin school girl
He ain't ready