Str8 clownin, how this insignificant fuck gon test me?
Beating me? You got better luck getting drunk off pepsi
Don’t come out, child, its dark, whoops, he out, now the cryins about to start
Do you like the “wizard of oz“ leave you “lyin’ (lion) without a heart”
To battle me, skill is one of the stipulations, g
Bone chips and abrasions be what you receive, now you equipped with frustration, see
Tonguing my chest down, just to say you “MAN-NIPPLE-ATED” (manipulated) me
Grip you and grab you got you in a punishing death grips, just like crabs do
Slit you and stab you, come back and rip off the scabs on you
Dibble and dabble, you wouldn’t have tight “word play” if you was the champion at “scrabble”
The cards stacked up against you, the ace is dealed
Debate and squeal, how I chase and kill clowns is straight unreal
Im sorry dog, I hate to reveal-even if you was an artist, you still wouldn’t have a “trace of skill”
Like a tribe called quest, you better “check ya rhyming”
My rhymes is disrespecting and grimy “Did he just say that?” stop the tape deck, rewind it
Its your neck im grinding, cuz you was in violation for “wreckless rhyming"
I must got foul breath, cuz all you hear is sickness when I spit
Give a lynchin to ya click got the chainsaw to your dome, now you flinchin really quick
Seeing me coming is like niggas smuggling crack in they asses, you a “synch to shit a brick”
Oh, and let me mention to this trick (clownin) the only “nine” you holdin is the inches of my
dick

dont vote unless you understand the wordplay!!!