Cripla - Raw lyrics

[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