[hook]
guillotine, that notorious renegade, Aint no muthafuckin serenade //
This money bags punk like an “impotent” penis; needs to “elevate” //
Spittin this dope bomb’s explosive, time to celebrate //
This a “battle” kid, why you tryin to “collaborate?” //

Ya signed in on Monday eyes full of fear, lookin up to ya “peer” //
Upset our paths crossin, wid cha eyes full of tears //
Cause when I told ya I got cha “back,” fool got da wrong idea //
I went to ya house, ripped out ya “spine” and took it back here //
I got you mangled at insane maniac “angles” like “Kurt” //
When ya bleedin in the dirt, ya concerned ya feelings hurt //
I’m like spittin obscenities, peeps sit up, take notice //
Full of jealousy, no one gets that from ya bitch~ass hoe~diss //
Wack, like odds of infinity to one, got no chance absolutely //
Truly, coward, you be like miss Briggs-Mathers, just sue me //
Some things come at ya, some things just come to ya //
But who da kid dat bust rhymes that flow right through ya? //
I knew ya, wasn’t all that ill, but ya talking bout skill //
Better write ya will at the table as I take ya for ya last meal //

[hook]
guillotine, that notorious renegade, Aint no muthafuckin serenade //
This money bags punk like an “impotent” penis; needs to “elevate” //
Spittin this dope bomb’s explosive, time to celebrate //
This a “battle” kid, why you tryin to “collaborate?” //