My verse has been censored. But I'm not pulling a Jim Morrison.




You're tryin' your best to come dope... thinking you might win it,
How could you follow my act? When you can't even follow the fuckin' line limit,
LPMNDCTE? In the fuck? What does that even mean in your mind?
Oh, I get it. You're so fucking fat you can't help but hit three keys at a time,
You're hopeless, bro. Every single verse you drop... It's the same shit,
I could win just for the fact that people don't feel like typing in your name, bitch.
You ain't doin' shit in this rap game. Drop an album. You won't even sell three,
And me? I don't even take this shit seriously and I'm already droppin' an LP,
Plus that fame won't bring you bitches. They ask you to drop off a cliff,
You love the red carpet though. But even Carrot Top tells you to hop off his dick,
I'm not droppin' any "passin' L" punches but still the voters backlash,
Like "L lines are played...... How'd he even get into the fuckin' champ match?"
They say people improve over time. But I'd hate to damage your verse cuz,
But I'll be up front, the bottom line is..... just about as bad as your first was,
This faggot be boastin' that his chicks hot. And everybody wants to tap this,
Tellin' me "Hop on the bandwagon!" Shit... All of VTL could fit on that fat bitch,
I don't even need to try. Though I need to be careful when rushin' this fire,
Cause if I clothes crappy. I'll get dqed for biting your whole fuckin' attire.

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