[Round 1: Real Sikh]
In our whole class, you be talkin' the most
It kinda gettin' me mad
I'll make you shut the fuck up, I'm tired of listenin' to that
Fire in this entire environment with a mag' and shoot this whole shit up to quiet Kid in the class
I'ma rip him in half
Been pushin' for the smoke, line up rookies in a row
I put a bullet in they dome
Said I shouldn't be this cold, but you can only understand my point of view if you lookin' through a scope
I'm puttin' on a show, he dyin' the whole time
Ridin' wit' iron I'll hit his eye with a .4-5
Prolly get the left and right 'til he go blind
Like debatable battles, fire on both sides
Wanna start war? Bomb thrown in his face
His arm goin' this way
His torso outta frame
Rest of his body parts fallin' on stage
His name "Chaos" so I'ma have him all over the place
Steam ain't better
Creep wit' lethal weapons I keep Berettas, sneakin'
Reach for metal than he could get a gun butt
Leave a dent in it 'til I give the voice in his head a speech impediment
Keep ya energy
Hope all of it's spent well
You scream?
I grab you by your collar and then yell
Like, "Yo, what up?" Then his talkin' just went frail
After I yoke him he'll be walkin' on eggshells
So sit cool
Sikh rude
Get stupid, swing too, I dip/move
Hit dude with a quick boop
Kick through him, big boots
With chin music, we switch to the six-shooter
The revolver, like fake news I put a different spin to it
I'm in your crib pacin' the hall, put your head through sheet rock
Get the neighbors involved, shit break through brick layers and all
I pull the Tom' out and have Kid facin' the wall
I'm Sikh
My religion taught me warrior tactics
Slowly will stab his gut forward and backwards
Pokin' his abs when his organ collapse he dyin' on the inside like he holdin' a laugh in
I go to the max, his dome'll get clapped
Blown out of proportion, he over dramatic, I want him thrown in a casket
I'm showin' him 'matics
With my fingers crossed, cause I'm hopin' it happens
I know you wanna call time, I'm done son
I ain't tryin' to have this battle tied at 1-1
Y'all think I'm gonna be the guy this chump slumps?
Alcohol poisonin', you got Sikh (sick) fucked up
Jersey
In our whole class, you be talkin' the most
It kinda gettin' me mad
I'll make you shut the fuck up, I'm tired of listenin' to that
Fire in this entire environment with a mag' and shoot this whole shit up to quiet Kid in the class
I'ma rip him in half
Been pushin' for the smoke, line up rookies in a row
I put a bullet in they dome
Said I shouldn't be this cold, but you can only understand my point of view if you lookin' through a scope
I'm puttin' on a show, he dyin' the whole time
Ridin' wit' iron I'll hit his eye with a .4-5
Prolly get the left and right 'til he go blind
Like debatable battles, fire on both sides
Wanna start war? Bomb thrown in his face
His arm goin' this way
His torso outta frame
Rest of his body parts fallin' on stage
His name "Chaos" so I'ma have him all over the place
Steam ain't better
Creep wit' lethal weapons I keep Berettas, sneakin'
Reach for metal than he could get a gun butt
Leave a dent in it 'til I give the voice in his head a speech impediment
Keep ya energy
Hope all of it's spent well
You scream?
I grab you by your collar and then yell
Like, "Yo, what up?" Then his talkin' just went frail
After I yoke him he'll be walkin' on eggshells
So sit cool
Sikh rude
Get stupid, swing too, I dip/move
Hit dude with a quick boop
Kick through him, big boots
With chin music, we switch to the six-shooter
The revolver, like fake news I put a different spin to it
I'm in your crib pacin' the hall, put your head through sheet rock
Get the neighbors involved, shit break through brick layers and all
I pull the Tom' out and have Kid facin' the wall
I'm Sikh
My religion taught me warrior tactics
Slowly will stab his gut forward and backwards
Pokin' his abs when his organ collapse he dyin' on the inside like he holdin' a laugh in
I go to the max, his dome'll get clapped
Blown out of proportion, he over dramatic, I want him thrown in a casket
I'm showin' him 'matics
With my fingers crossed, cause I'm hopin' it happens
I know you wanna call time, I'm done son
I ain't tryin' to have this battle tied at 1-1
Y'all think I'm gonna be the guy this chump slumps?
Alcohol poisonin', you got Sikh (sick) fucked up
Jersey
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!