DISS TO SICK ONE

Have no lyrical truthj even with a miracle roof couldn’t
Stop black rain from hitting your whack brain I wouldn’t
Talk loud or walk proud even with a bulk crowd no one applauds
You, wear clothes deep red just a freak misled like a lost child broad
With a false style a fraud belong on milk cartons your girl get silk pardons
Like galore whores on street strips, your unique script is garbage starting
With your rhymes farting at doors blind begging for food
Best dodge this surprise you not large in size like a oak tree
Therefore you can’t smoke me just big joke G I’m like Stokeley
Carmichael I burn baby burn when will the crazy learn manners?
You filthy and not digging me plus guilty of bigamy like bandana
Thug with two wives can’t live true lives I’m like Carlos Santanna
Got a black magic Woman while you just a whack tragic omen