Slave to the weatherman --I'm primetime call me Letterman.
If Eddie Vedder wrote your verses you'd still never be the Better Man.
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you can't harm me son, I got army guns that will srike with motives
....when I hit the parchment dun I'm known to slay GI like improvised explosives
the mic in your sig, came from your dyke girls nice pearl when it split
then I made you suck on it like a lollipop, gobble globs before it dropped in the pic
Sacrificial blood on the altar --they praising Giants in this bitch.
Beat your bitch with that MIC --killing pussies is my niche.
I'm a real life GI, I don't need 2 punch fighting lass
...against ant. I just need rays of the sun n a magnifying glass
y'all some fags in distress, murder bout to happen my way
when throw G/V out on the floor, It'll be like Wal-Mart on black Friday
your rhymes are forced, but I got those goretex raps
so they salvage yours when they weather them n rap 'em in forceflex bags
not dim, and better than him, forced shit so focus purpose
...............or I'll put letter in a box like the postal service
Fuck rhyme schemes, I just wanted the end words to rhyme
Besides, it's not like that bar took more than 20 seconds of my time
Outpace me? you're a Snail B
I'll put letter in a Box.. I'm emailin'
bend gravel with my threwn shots, unravel the truth watch
I weather storms like a weather balloon n end shadows like a rooftop
Val think we friends, dude nice tho, am I right y'all
he's quickly headed to the top, and I'll be there to kick him right off
I'll knock him up like a door
P has a hard flow? when He can't piss for sure