[Round 1: Danny Myers]
I needed rest and relaxation...after years of going bar for bar
But I entered this tourney to put in work..and they still gave me R&R
I'll put you where the martyrs are, some niggas deserve Hell
These first 2 gon' feel like a sub'...it gets shocking by the third Rell (rail)
I'll pull a Sig' first, and keep squeezin' til his wig burst
Even if I miss, the echo'll fuck you up like it did Surf
They know the kid's worth, they gone lace me with the bread
I popped up at his crib for all the crazy shit he said
Saw that bitch that be watching ya son
BAOW
.380 hit her head
Lil' nigga, Don't Tell Mom The Babysitter's Dead
Death doesn't stay there, I'll pull up to ya other child's daycare
Kill 'em then hide the baby inside the dresser, I really think this way fair (Wayfair)
Say player, who ill as this?
First I made sure the children hit
Now the pistol leanin' against Rell (rail) like it's feelin' sick
I'll peel his shit, squeeze a TEC, bleed to death, he a mess
These bullets gone take back anything Ree' possess (repossess)
That lil' hoe you fuck with ain't as clean as you think
That bitch can dismantle a pipe like she dropped her ring in the sink
Now she clingin' to me, I tell her, "Go 'head broad"
She used to suck me back in the day, but that's old head bars
Bar God!
I'm here to keep those racks
That's why they're filmin' me talkin' to the Reaper like Meet Joe Black
I'm on Long Island, where Reepah at?
I said I'd keep the beef intact
I let it sing, everybody from ya set die, and I can find Glee in that
Bitch keep it rap, or get stomped out, I'll fuck ya world up
My feet'll (fetal) position ya body to where it curls up
You'll earl bruh, I hold the gun cocked tight
I'm pullin' the handle like I ain't time the car's unlock right
You on that Ong Bak hype
I'll cut ya head off, then Molotov you
I would take a photograph for proof, but something looks OFF about you
You soft, I doubt you...with the shit
Cause any beef discussion
Will lead to head trauma, I call that a Reaper-cussion (repercussion)
Heater bustin'
And he on the ground with this shit
This wack MC got another 2 rounds of this shit, Yikes
I needed rest and relaxation...after years of going bar for bar
But I entered this tourney to put in work..and they still gave me R&R
I'll put you where the martyrs are, some niggas deserve Hell
These first 2 gon' feel like a sub'...it gets shocking by the third Rell (rail)
I'll pull a Sig' first, and keep squeezin' til his wig burst
Even if I miss, the echo'll fuck you up like it did Surf
They know the kid's worth, they gone lace me with the bread
I popped up at his crib for all the crazy shit he said
Saw that bitch that be watching ya son
BAOW
.380 hit her head
Lil' nigga, Don't Tell Mom The Babysitter's Dead
Death doesn't stay there, I'll pull up to ya other child's daycare
Kill 'em then hide the baby inside the dresser, I really think this way fair (Wayfair)
Say player, who ill as this?
First I made sure the children hit
Now the pistol leanin' against Rell (rail) like it's feelin' sick
I'll peel his shit, squeeze a TEC, bleed to death, he a mess
These bullets gone take back anything Ree' possess (repossess)
That lil' hoe you fuck with ain't as clean as you think
That bitch can dismantle a pipe like she dropped her ring in the sink
Now she clingin' to me, I tell her, "Go 'head broad"
She used to suck me back in the day, but that's old head bars
Bar God!
I'm here to keep those racks
That's why they're filmin' me talkin' to the Reaper like Meet Joe Black
I'm on Long Island, where Reepah at?
I said I'd keep the beef intact
I let it sing, everybody from ya set die, and I can find Glee in that
Bitch keep it rap, or get stomped out, I'll fuck ya world up
My feet'll (fetal) position ya body to where it curls up
You'll earl bruh, I hold the gun cocked tight
I'm pullin' the handle like I ain't time the car's unlock right
You on that Ong Bak hype
I'll cut ya head off, then Molotov you
I would take a photograph for proof, but something looks OFF about you
You soft, I doubt you...with the shit
Cause any beef discussion
Will lead to head trauma, I call that a Reaper-cussion (repercussion)
Heater bustin'
And he on the ground with this shit
This wack MC got another 2 rounds of this shit, Yikes
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!