No I haven’t held a gun,
But when I rap bitches like you go on the run.
I don't pretend to be gangster, give me a break,
Your lies are raw like steak,
I'm not make believe, motherfucker you're fake.
It seems rap they don't make brains a must,
Same with you're lip they verse was a bust.
You go around singing 'I'm so good'
You’re nothing but a bloody stain on my hood.
So, I challenge the next rapper,
to pull the mic out of the crapper.