So don't ignore the onslaught... it's coming, momentarily.
You don't have to care for me. I don't even care,
but what is here? Will be.. slightly defiant.
Come 'ere. Try to fight with a giant. You fucking bitch, I don't like the compliant.
The blood spilling out of you is what I'm writing my rhyme with.
My service is taking property - I even frighten my clients.
But I'm likened to violence, it's kind of peculiar.
Rhyming I fuel your ambition to type. But you know it's over once
I pick up this mic. So listen, alright?
There's simply no way you're making it out this, alive.
Even if you had the power to ride, you'll get devoured, and I
- won't even have the courtesy to arrange funeral services.
It'll just be a trash can and instruments that I used to murder with.
Copernicus. The developing plain in which these words exist.
I sit back, inside of the office while you observe the niche.
You little nerdy bitch! Come mince words with the king.
Get out of class, you ain't learning a thing.
Your soul will get pressed n' then turned into bling.
Right down to the wallet, though. Yelling adios! Your body toast.
Then, I'll probably 'Ghost , like Omari.
You, a threat? A ha. Yeah, hardly.
I fucking doubt it. Come hustle with Sonic, both of these Knuckles 'bout it.
We can even go as far as betting a hundred thousand.
"Doesn't play well with others" should be carved in the side of my flesh.
Tell reality TV this is as live as it gets.
Cardi B, Fashion night, in the press.
What a frightening mess!
Uh, the type to address any fisticuffs with this dick, to suck.
While you flick your nipples, huh.
You cuckold! Your freaking slut, I tell 'er to LICK IT UP.
She's yelling, "That's the bomb".
Could have asked Saddam... your girl, gets put
where her ass belongs... getting anal on Blacked.com
There's quite no other person to cover your hearse
in decorative pics... n' yell an F word worse than an expletive blip.
If I'm causing a scene, it's OK cause you're not the director of shit!
So until that day? Just expect to get ripped, liked Flex Wheeler...
or get left in a ditch.
How many words will come out of me now?
Fucking wireless. Ain't no way you can power me down.
Drag your name through the dirt. Dig up your grave than revert...
your brain. Cause I got the perfect aim.
Whether Oxycontin or Xanax, bitch, it still works the same.
I'll let the nurse explain, with a couple of pamphlets, while I'm exerting pain.