DISS TO JOHN DOUGH

JOHN DOUGH you on a freak’s route to speak about a shut out bid
You cold and silly you couldn’t shut a bowl of chilli if I gave you a lid kid
You have a habit with stats too stupid to pull a rabit out of a hat
I’m true jeannie but you’ll never be Whodini your belly too fat
JOHN DOUGH you couldn’t be mighty if superman loaned you
his cape just a grown fake that’ll never fly as a clever guy so boo
at your verse you got a fat thirst for fame don’t even have a first name
you couldn’t come hard standing in a batch of cement I’ll burst your vein
with lyrical injections this is a miracle resurrection killing your whack style
JOHN DOUGH I’m of one mind with a ton of rhymes while
You dumb and ascinine now come drink wine it time to smile
You couldn’t be ill with the Bubonic plague you make a pile
Of mistakes in battles, never be heroic and you know it, look
I got muscles yo like RUSSELL CROWE I’m a gladiator hooked
While you just a mad hater shooked like earthquaken ground
You’re a mistaken clown taking a renown fucking ten pound
Ass whooping, JOHN DOUGH you face outrageous friction
While I’m in an advantageous position to apply courageos restrictions
On your whack verses and put them in black hearses your very
Style is dead and buried, even if I bury in the PET CEMETARY
Still couldn’t comeback because you dumb and whack even if Dairy
Queen fed you ice cream you wouldn’t have flavor in your rhymes
you may as well grab my style and lick, lick, lick it many times
like a lolli pop because I get ill fame like Lil Wayne got plenty lines
that shoot bricks and recruit chicks while you suck and puke on dicks
look I’m hurting this clown he starting to make certain sounds and squeaks
on the streets as the freak that had us all fooled for awhile and now he speaks
“SQAW I’m dim and whack and the impact of your rhymes has effected
My brain and I can’t correct my lame style what should I do to be protected?”
“ Retire from rap and get rid of that dumb cap in the hood you’re rejected”
JOHN DOUGH your flow don’t compare guy so go blow dry your hair
I can ride horse or bear and fly through moist air like a feeble eagle and stare
At you as an illegal beagle that can’t bark after dark all your rhymes parked
In a handicap space a disgrace to rap oh fuck here comes the Hip Hop cops
To ticket your wicked nickel dime vehicle of crime, couldn’t rip shop with a cocked
Glock son, not Hip Hip or a beep bop, fat and chubby at best dang you need
To see Dougie Fresh so six minutes and then you’re on, sit down and read