[Round 1: Caustic]
I said, so you the Washington guy
The best Seattle had to offer us, right?
But you not from Seattle; you from Federal Way!
You moved to Seattle 'cause that shit sound better to say
Honestly, fuck wherever you stay
'Cause no matter how far you go, you'll always end up second to Jey
You from fuckin' Federal Way
Where every day is fuckin' Presidents' Day
Fuck around and go out the John Kennedy way
When I pull up and put a bullet through the head of the state
I said, now Jey the Nitewing's the URL star that you never became
Calls himself "Stue" and wonders why they don't get him a plate
'Cause it's a soup, you idiot
I said, you a birdbrain
Who you supposed to be, fam?
Jey the Nitewingman?
'Cause Jey the only Washington rapper that anybody's ever gonna remember
Just because you don't know how to represent the hood like a public defender
Fun fact: you are the only URL member who's never got to make songs with Meth
And that's fuckin' ridiculous because you look like Raekwon the Chef
I said, I'm really 'bout that action, put that on everything I love
Conan with the big arms; I'm sendin' messages in blood
Said I'm ridin' with that bitch on me, feelin' like Terminator with the pump
Now, it's Arnold versus Predator; you ain't never seen a white boy to get it out the mud?
Said, ain't you, like, thirty-fuckin'-one, tryna act like a young guy?
But if shit kick off in here, this shit'll be a actual gun fight
Put the .9 in his face like, one wrong word and it's a wrap for this tough guy
Now, you lookin' like some OFF-WHITE Js (why's that?) 'cause the strap got you tongue-tied
I'll rip yo' fuckin' throat out like Roadhouse; that type of shit doesn't even happen any more
Said, "Nah, this is Newton's law." He won't understand the gravity of the situation until his apple hits the floor
I said, you ain't packagin' the raw
You work at the hotel with the rest of the staff!
You a professional bed-maker so it makes perfect sense that you mad
But whenever you rap, it's like forget that you're that and you just start embellishin' facts
You ain't frontin' kis to the guys then collectin' the cash
You at the front desk, givin' keys to every guest that you have!
You a broke-ass butler so even at your profession, you're bad
'Cause you're a fuckin' bellhop that don't know how to get to the bag!
I said I'm notorious, feelin' like the legend that passed
So you better hope it's life after death when somethin' big stops you dead in ya tracks
Play with somethin' safe, man
I said, so you the Washington guy
The best Seattle had to offer us, right?
But you not from Seattle; you from Federal Way!
You moved to Seattle 'cause that shit sound better to say
Honestly, fuck wherever you stay
'Cause no matter how far you go, you'll always end up second to Jey
You from fuckin' Federal Way
Where every day is fuckin' Presidents' Day
Fuck around and go out the John Kennedy way
When I pull up and put a bullet through the head of the state
I said, now Jey the Nitewing's the URL star that you never became
Calls himself "Stue" and wonders why they don't get him a plate
'Cause it's a soup, you idiot
I said, you a birdbrain
Who you supposed to be, fam?
Jey the Nitewingman?
'Cause Jey the only Washington rapper that anybody's ever gonna remember
Just because you don't know how to represent the hood like a public defender
Fun fact: you are the only URL member who's never got to make songs with Meth
And that's fuckin' ridiculous because you look like Raekwon the Chef
I said, I'm really 'bout that action, put that on everything I love
Conan with the big arms; I'm sendin' messages in blood
Said I'm ridin' with that bitch on me, feelin' like Terminator with the pump
Now, it's Arnold versus Predator; you ain't never seen a white boy to get it out the mud?
Said, ain't you, like, thirty-fuckin'-one, tryna act like a young guy?
But if shit kick off in here, this shit'll be a actual gun fight
Put the .9 in his face like, one wrong word and it's a wrap for this tough guy
Now, you lookin' like some OFF-WHITE Js (why's that?) 'cause the strap got you tongue-tied
I'll rip yo' fuckin' throat out like Roadhouse; that type of shit doesn't even happen any more
Said, "Nah, this is Newton's law." He won't understand the gravity of the situation until his apple hits the floor
I said, you ain't packagin' the raw
You work at the hotel with the rest of the staff!
You a professional bed-maker so it makes perfect sense that you mad
But whenever you rap, it's like forget that you're that and you just start embellishin' facts
You ain't frontin' kis to the guys then collectin' the cash
You at the front desk, givin' keys to every guest that you have!
You a broke-ass butler so even at your profession, you're bad
'Cause you're a fuckin' bellhop that don't know how to get to the bag!
I said I'm notorious, feelin' like the legend that passed
So you better hope it's life after death when somethin' big stops you dead in ya tracks
Play with somethin' safe, man
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!