Charron - Charron vs Sandman lyrics

[Round 1: Charron] Yo, judging by the shirt I guess you're repping North Star But if anyone's impressed with your bars, you got it a** backwards like dyslexic p**n stars Listen to this sh**, look it, c'mon literally everyone here knows this b**h will get murked Yellow is your group color? Did one your wiggers piss on your shirt? My freestyle game could murk this fake, my words are great Did your shirt get replaced with a urinal cake? I had enough of your crew, you're a s**er it's true Siamese prostitutes wouldn't give two f**s about you You claim you're improving, who the f** cares? You couldn't step your sh** up if you moved a toilet upstairs You need to f** a b**h, b**h, stop being a coward You bring girl's on dates and they watch you eat for an hour Head up to your room and your meal's devoured And you leave 'em about as red as your feet in the shower I knew this man, listen, look around, his mom screws for crack And she's on more heads here than a Blue Jay hat Y'all know my flowing is the best so I'll put this h*mo to d**h You couldn't rock a crowd if you stoned them to d**h [Round 2: Charron] Yo my flow's smooth like bu*ter, yeah I'm Clay Aiken but you're the white Ruben Studdard I'm blazing you back like haze in a sack I was gonna say you never laid in the past but judging by the frame that you have It looks like you're pregnant with an ape and giraffe There's no baby in that this f*ggot's just fat Everyday he looks in the mirror with his homeboys and puts on his j's and his cap And says to his wigger friends "Does this make me look black?" You're a little f**ing b**h and I'm k**ing you now My freestyle's game and I'm realing it now Cause listen man, yo I keep going I established that your mom is dirty The amount of co*ks she's taken today is equivalent to this number on this jersey Wig on him quick, you're a b**h and I'm sick, ain't no one here f**ing with Trick C'mon man you're the lamest excuse, everyone knows this clown will get murked The closest you'll be to a king is the crown on your shirt Listen, I'm k**ing this cat I'm ill when I rap I don't care if you say my freestyles go for a billion cat And listen I keep going cause this cat's a fake I'll keep going my raps are great and you have to make a new mixtape cause you're album's fake [Round 3: Charron] Yo, man your sh** is embarra**ing And more played out than a needle mixed with some h**n Or any line saying this is King Of The Dot not the insert comparison Listen, I'm k**ing you right now, I'm abusing this rapper I'll f** you up worse than Organik gonna do to Dizaster Listen, he still thinks he's black like, "Yo I'm not truly a cracker." He rocked black cause he knew I'd murder him and he's going to the funeral after C'mon man you talk about guns? But in Lindsey it's a hick Town, there's no gats that are booming He thinks his f**ing hometown's crazy cause last week the first black person moved in But you're a crazy hick person When he lost his virginity he was drastically moving Too bad he couldn't outrun Uncle Skeeter at the family reunion Your hick decisions are always proper He's an awkward stalker that fondles his father's daughter for tonic water And listen man I keep going, you can call me a bulimic and skinny, that's clever and quick But you're like a bulimic's food cause you'll never be sh** I keep going, my rap's rocking while this cat's jocking I'll f** you up so bad you'll wanna change your name like Chad Johnson Easy