Mopreme - Funkmaster Flex Diss lyrics

[Intro] What what? s**a** Who the f** is Flex [Nuttso] Yeah, yall hear this n***a talking that major sh** In his own hometown though, n***a, that's fake sh** When 'Pac and Biggie died we stayed on some playa sh** Now all of a sudden this n***a wanna ride on us some hatin' sh** Sayin' how the n***a don't f** with 2Pac When n***as in your home circle f** with 2Pac The East and the West Coast f** with 2Pac's Until the end of time we gon' f** with 2Pac Talk sh** and hide is what ain't gon' do You can find me in your face spitting anger juice With them bangers loots for the dangers crew f**ing up the night like us gangstas do I'm your ghost in the night, make and hang in your noose Sparking up the nights is what them thangs gon' do You come back to the West is what you ain't gon' do You best tryna meet me on paper view You didn't wanna see 'Pac in his physical form That's why you a** talking sh**, n***a, after he's gone I thought the b**h n***a bit his tongue But when I re-heard it I was like, "come on, son" He hopped off 'Pac starting s**ing on Biggie dick Sweeter than a pop-tart, man, you believe that sh**?! It ain't gon' be who shot ya when you a** get hit You can blame it on West Coast smash and sh** Cause me and my packing n***as be coming attacking n***as Be running up jacking n***as and whacking the clacking n***as We out the n***as that they think we're some rapping n***as Before you start yapping, n***a, you better go get ya back up, n***a I'm hacking n***as and rat-tat-ing these n***as Like clack clack this n***a like backslapping this n***a For yap yappin in a leopard livin' in yappet Now you gotta deal with the livin', n***a, what's happenin'? Up in Manhattan when you throwing my set up In front of Bad Boy Entertainment throwing the West up I guess again it's time to make a n***a respect us Cause now that 'Pac gone n***a throwin his chest up The West up, now n***a, what's next? How can a n***a with no muscle n***a be called Flex? Tryna build record sales, n***a, I ain't buyin You response should be an apology, we still ain't buyin' Consequences of a real n***a, whip till he's wet up My competition, n***a, find 'em, it's a hit from the neck up I'm on a kind of mission ripping your set up But won't stop spitting clips until that AK let up DJ? Yeah, stands for Dead Jockey So n***a watch ya head cause what you said was sloppy Funky a** n***a, you starvin' probably You ain't a master, you'se a carbon copy The F stands for f*ggot, n***a, feelin' the pain And the L is for his character, n***a is lame The E's for the extra weight the n***a being gained Then the S is what we used to walk out that n***a name Sparking the flame like darts at a frame His next interview it gon' be talking in pain Yeah n***a, you ain't boss in the game Doing sh** like that proved you lost in the game When Biggie died West Coast radio played him Now this n***a wanna lie, man, this n***a is crazy Now can nothin' save him, warnin' shots done grazed him He like a predator done, n***as is hittin' it from every angle When 'Pac died he thought he was over, right?! But thugs don't die, b**h n***a, we multiply I been a outlaw, I chose to ride And go out the way I'm supposed to die Put the d**h to Makaveli, n***a know how to handle that Dress in AK's like Suge with a battle axe Check my stats and that's actual fact Then while police was bullsh** and I was looking for white Cadillac Imagine that n***a coming at you clacking that Tryna get at you with that yappin' a** I got platinum plaques and platinum gats And young goons on call to hand your hat Stand back