[Verse 1: Andy Jayy]
Turn the track back, got the gat packed
My attacks bap all ya whack rap, ya hear the mac click clack
f** with me, you'll be gambling like blackjack
But you end up bad luck, like a black cat
Fall back all you sad sacks, y'all fools like Kickback
Still got ya mommies packing snack packs, and Snack Wraps
Can't even come back, y'all ain't what you seem to be
Too bad I ain't afraid to give y'all a piece of me
Fed up with bullsh**, y'all bouta get your lip split
You gotta admit, as I spit, you b**h is enjoying every bit
Keep talking, it won't be lyrical murder I commit
Y'all just a joke like some SNL comedy skit
This beat, Ima master it, all you f*ggots do is ask for it
You talk sh** but when someone comes back, just throw a fit
Coming at me like you actually got sk**
Just realize you ain't sh** I'm the king of the f**ing hill
No Hank though, I got that dank flow
Every time I spit I make my motherf**ing bank grow
Ridiculous bars, smoking spliffs and cigars
I got a rich studio, packed with different guitars
[Verse 2]
Battle me, I'll leave you shakin in fear
Cause I'm the mothaf**er who will end your career
I'll leave you on your knees, like your b**h was, is that clear?
Now I'm hitting it from the rear, she'll be screaming oh dear
You at home jacking off with the catalog from Sears
So f** you, and I mean it, I'm being sincere
Serious sk**, that's what you lack
That's why I'm turning around, writing and spitting this diss track
Me, no mic, like a fiend, no crack
Y'all might wanna take me seriously, like an asthma attack
Funny how the people you make an effort to treat the best
Turn around and treat you like you just one of the f**ing rest
Yeah I been there before many times in fact
b**hes tripping, then they all up on your nutsack
f**ing with dumb hoes, rather lay up on a train track
Its best to just take your dick, give that b**h a nice smack
Hand her an icepack, Ha, and I wonder why ladies never call back