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07-08-08, 09:37 PM | #1 | ||||||
Maggot
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Diss To John Dough
IP: F030 F370
DISS TO JOHN DOUGH
JOHN DOUGH I come fast and keen and like gasoline I power motors while you drive and cowers in Toyotas seen You wreck in a rich community you itch for an opportunity To rap someday wait for you to come say “teach me I’m puny At rap no hood life I fool folks at school I’m a joke get kicked Can’t wear rocca wear it’s on the block everywhere it’s slick So SQAW my words advanced but nerds don’t dance got a bic In my pants the Ink may spill think it kills the fibers paints my dick” JOHN DOUGH you ride my dick have the pride of a trick You couldn’t pull a chick with a rope attached too quick To brag just a sick fag that chase dick, thinking you great When you just a stinking fake your flow is a fart which create No part in the rap art, this lame claim to be street like he Some kind of scarface on a bazaar pace to takeover with three Rhymes, you couldn’t (NEW) jack a city if you was Wesley Snipes Or Ice Tea on Law and Order you face a raw slaughter of all types he’s blind like Ray Charles was can’t see a damn thing got no hype You dumb retard you couldn’t come hard if you stood in a freezer Just a damn good skeezer boy silly with no ability a damn dick teaser All my rhymes are like matured wines will cure minds like yours Get a glass and get your ass drunk off this funk chump my metaphors Bores through doors leave holes in floors so bow down clown like whores Rhymes played out like fairy tales just airy trail of a wanna be but You gonna see me advance to a higher level while you remain a slut When it comes to rhymes I collect clusters just to correct busters like You I wear earplugs so I don’t hear scrubs like you a damn rusty dyke This bitch whack and lame even with a highjack plane he couldn’t blow up Inside the world trade center, box cutter bitch everything you know is corrupt look bitch I’m doing lame damage to your truck because you campaign is managed by daffy duck so quack quack you’re a whack act in the rap game not very bright you follow me to every site and bite my rhyme so why blame me for your short comings all sort of gay rumbling is tumbling in your head trying to make friends I don’t like fake trends you lie a lot try be hot with a dead Style, you couldn’t spit ill with garlic on your breath, one rhyme a week you Ascinine freak I’m forgotten more rhyme than you can remember I speak true Just a rich kid hid behind a dream while I rhyme extreme my lines steam like Boiling crabs and bitch you crawling no vocab in your script look you write Simple trash like a pimple on an ass it should be squeezed and removed |
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