Roger Glocks AKA Too-be-Frank


I'm on a higher level. You suck and your keys are trash, man
^^Normally, that's me being Frank
but I don't aspire to be your wack ass
this geek is crap and so i'll put this wigga bitch ta sleep
and your flow is so off that your circadian rhythm skips a beat
no rhyme scheme, no concepts - but don't get pissed at me
your style is paper thin... but you don't have a shred of dignity
kid is weak; your life is worth nothing & your vitals will plummet
that gut feeling you've got... is my fucking knife in your stomach
what you typing is rubbish so you praying to God, hoping for luck
but that light over your head's not an idea, but heaven opening up
owning this slut, drunk off the illness, but i'll still take you apart
cause i'm still sober enough... to drive this stake through your heart
you won't awake from this spar & you can't right your ways
now that i've foiled your plans... i'll toss 'em in the microwave
you're wack and you front... while to the fucking fullest i'm hot
ironic how i'm emptying my gun but am leaving every bullet in Glocks
Roger... I'll have your vitals decline when writing these rhymes
I've been calling your bluff... but it's hard with your life on the line