|
Light Weight
|
IP:
aight checkin in... here it is...
I aint got much time for noobies who tryin to fib rage
Im an injury artist, i'll hyper extend yo rib cage
In six ways, Til yo bones lascerate yo skin cells
Like rusty nails, and buss yo jaw til it lock up like prison cells
Fifty Cent for yo avatar either you whack or dumb
The only rap that you mastered is wit yo lips around yo thumb
Cuz you's a bum, im a rhyme reaper i'll take yo life
Yo goin toe to toe wit me is crappin out like rollin dice
Nigga you second lookin, scared to get burned by what im cookin
Findin excuses not to post like a toddler facin an ass whoopin
But theres no way out, like yo last steps was on death row
I'll pour gasoline on you and throw a lighter on the petrol
Homey im elevated, you got time before you climb that ladder
My styles above yours so whatever you post wont matter
|