ur breakfast, don't trust records but consider this ur vinyled hit
u pile of shit, u cudn’t put lead in spits even while signin lips
ur locations a bluff, call me Carmen at the beach the way i sand thee ego
branded with prego, u cudn’t block hits with a handful of lego’s
i hope that u’re packin some sutures for when my lyrics start trackin n shoot ya
i’m not Micheal J Fox, but i’ll rip out ur spine n send ur Back To The Future
i’m serving this L well, like rain forests all ur doin is sendin win’ds
I had to grim cus his username’s glow color’s the only thing blendin in
he’s a has been, suck dick to spit seeds just to claim u’ve sonned ur friends
was there really a need to post? last W u seen was with 2 roman numerals of ur wins(VV=5&5)