Hey yo...Hey yo...
Here it goes, the ryhmes are flyin' by, who knows,
The mother fucker's I challenge are just abuncha dirty hoes,
I don't care if they're male or not,
They're homosexuals, I'm a gay basher, [Bam! Bam! Splot!]
I talk to all the people I challenge, even Da Nigma,
I'll put it in words to make shit more simpla,
Da Nigma is just a poser tryin to get exposed,
But he don' have a chance, his rapshit blows,
Just picture me in ur head in a decade, a superstar,
While u'll be some bum jus' tryin to save up for even a shit car,
I may not be DMX, but maybe I'm the next big thing,
You will be tryin to get hookers for ur first bling,bling,
I'm sic with my mics,
And I'm cool with my dikes,
I'm down with dawgs from the streets, New York,
You be tryin to grab food off my plate, put i'll stick ya with a fork,
Well, let's see...what else can I say?
Well, here's the facts: I'M FUCKIN' AWSOME, UR GAY!
[Ha, ha!] Stop talkin like I'm your brah-ther,
Get some better ryhmes son, 'CAUSE I'M YOUR FATHER!
[Ya right...] If u were my son, I'd woop ur ass,
Only 'cause u be the fuckin queerist mother fucker in class,
Don't be mad at me, be mad at your own self,
Throw urself off a cliff, 'cause this whiteboy's somethin else,
Peace Out!




Spit yours. Don't take shit seriously, dawg. It's only for fun.