[verse one] (YOU su*k)- It's no wonder why I declined your feature Finna beat rappers up and stuff their bodies behind the bleachers No f**s given, I'm dippin this sh** is finders keepers Never catch me slippin I'm spittin casual violence meaner, try to be first and I'll prolly spit you out, chewed to pieces, coolest sequence Take your titties out I'm in the mood to see em Goons in Egypt, kickin back, spitting crack with the moon and Venus Who's the meanest, quickest slap to b**h in back, no spoon to feed it Bloodshed, food for leaches Leaving n***as booster seated Auto pilot through the day and spend it all just booty peepin Rudely preachin, mad, I shouldn't have to give you fools a reason Depressed and f**ing stressed don't wonder why He's coming through and chiefin (Small pause) and even at f**ing school he preached it Show me a new rapper and imma just be like "oooh he's decent" It is what it is cause honest never got to choose my demons b**h left me with no money, a broken heart & droopy penis (BKC HOOK) VERSE TWO: Pardon the dyslexic acts Often where the ruckus at Tearing n***as clean-a-f**ing-part with just a hunting axe After parties catch a n***a barfin in a pumpkin patch Started sparkin now it's like I'm hardly doing jumping jacks What is that, is that n***a sparring with a lumberjack? Hunnid stacks, won they bet against him but he won his match Duck n jab, hit him in his stomach n he's stumblin back Runnin rap Been training for too long there ain't no COMIN BACK I'm beating f*gs n hoes upside their heads with a saxophone Dismantle foes, reduced to ash when the frags are thrown Caskets closed, f** getting mad at a ratchet ho it's a gasket blown if you're coming at me with crappy flows Catacombs, you're finna be calling that a home Captains throne, not needed he ain't an average joe Hurt him badly though n then I left him on his patio Barely catch me givin f**s I'm givin s*uts the bag n bone VERSE THREE: I pulled a heist with a poltergeist then ate a bowl of rice I'm self promoting crimes such as choking wives and throwing knives at peeps who poorly chose to drive on roads at night I'm leaving rappers pulverized with goals cold as polar ice Left in caskets full of spikes, mold and mice with nothing but their mothers corpse to hold them tight When I hold the mic I spit equivalent gold and fright - victory I hope it's mine Leave ya with a broken spine f** it, let's go smoke inside Oops.. My flow snapped beat You can go after me when I'm done with this rapping spree, bona-petite Homie f** yo masterpiece Trashy schemes, kinda make a n***a wonder what it is you craftin, G Hasn't he - Committed ma**acres with ma**ive words while slashing herds dispatched to curbs then snatch a purse Laugh absurd as you crash n burn.. Young Sage wit a sack of purp If they childish smack em on the back until they have to burp