DEAD AND FAMOUS SPIT

I could care less about howmuch of a bitch you turn to be
Im spittin just shut you up, dont really give a fuck
Ill call it a victory cuz im not a hard net textcee
run away from the real ghetto thinks he can flow freely
By checkers you mean chess but that you be over your head
your just a pawn in the game of rap that all youll ever be
I already know that so i dont waste rhymes on the internet
yours come out like your momma used a spoon, forced fed them


AUDIBLES

Dawg i'll pack ya heart-with-heat, with scars-that-bleeds on the parts-thats-meat/
Like "fortune tellers" on "viagra" , my punches are too "hard-to-read"//

Im startin-beef, like a shark-with-teeth, why turn it up a notch-to-loose /
My tatics-pack-witts, like "clocks" on "checkerboards" how I "watch-ya-moves"//

Keep talkin and you'll cop-ah-bruise, you got-confused when you tried to earn-ranks /
Dead went to the Doc. to have his stomach pumped, came out the CEO of a sperm-bank //

Ya bones-be-ripped, like you chose-to-flip when i load-these-clips to your only-spits/
blow-me-kids, Its like i "whiped my ass" in "church" and had Kidd talkin "holy-shit"//