You ’bout to see peace destroyed
It’ll never be restored
When I unleash these beastly hoards on your CD stores
Wanna stop it, you gonna need a priest and at least three swords
A license to ill from the Beastie Boys, 3 Ouija boards
And a squeegee and please be warned don’t ask for the squeegees for Or the holy water, acid rapper that’ll eat these floors
Eat a hole in the rhyme book, you see these horns?
And as for me, you ask where I’m going will he be mourned?
Is puke look warm? Should Casey Anthony do porn?
Can that chick fit a newborn dead baby inside her freakin shoebox with a shoehorn, smother in chloroform so she can go get her groove on?
Can she duct tape and Velcro a fetus?
hell no, Tell your bro I need his empty box from his old shell toe Adidas
So I can put these babies in the fetal position, they’re getting elbows to the penis Yeah, big deal.
I took some little kids big wheel And spit in his fricken big kids meal
Quit trying ta bite me and pinch, you win sit still You just put your six inch heel through my Benz windshield?
Is it dust we bout to kick up?
Can Yelawolf fit a fifth of rum in a big cup?
Between a stick shift in his fricken pick up And drink like a hick, redneck, hillbilly will till he gets hiccups?
Flippin the script up like Mike Vick Get bit in his junk by a pit, yup I’m a sick pup I’d be a horrible magician
Cause I’d fuck that trick up Fix ya lips up to say something fly, or zip up
A-B? Let’s C. You said you were gonna do X-Y-Z Till you fuck around and get dropped like an E
When you add an I-N-G Don’t put a K in front of that though, When I MC
Cause I’m not the king of this microphone booth It’s more like a phone booth
Superman in this bitch, kryptonite won’t do It gives me more power, I bump the fat boys and
Eat rat poison, and take meteor showers
Fresh outta the mental hospital and me not flossing a middle finger While I hop in a mosh pit, will be like
Nas doing gospel or R&B, you crazy?
Me pushing up daisies, that thought is impossible Is it flashing across the news, Poseidon was caught with a prostitute
With a huge Johnson, boobs, and a monstrous tube of lube And a bra, some boots, some panties, and an aqua blue
Mazda Swallowing a Popsicle, playing tonsil pool
So kill the rumors it ain’t happening
I’m a rap till I’m fossil fuel
Cypher Freestyle
- October 23, 2011
- KyleMartin
- No Comments
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