[Round 1: Shox The Rebel]
World Dom' 7, you got to pushin' and shovin' Solomon
Instead of hittin' bro with your diss lines and now they book you for World Dom' 8
Great
Well let's see if iron in ya face gets you emotional this time
Pussy this bit, it's mine
I seen ya tweets, clowin', oh there's different levels when we spit lines? Cool
Now I'm heated, so for here on out, shit's peak I fly in and bombin' him; blitzkrieg
I'll bury this pipsqueak, prick deep
Now you can finally say that you six feet
It won't bring him back
I swing a bat it's a body, takfuckinge a piss is what the kid needs (kidneys)
Then he'll get the TECs (texts), but there'll be no TECs (text) back
You know how these chicks be, bitch please
Clownin' my bars from years ago, that shit's weak
Spittin' woefully average multisyllabics like, "You ain't a big Neek"
You fuckin' backpacker
You cry online ever fuckingy time you lose to a black rapper
We all seen it
Liking racist shit when the fans tweet crud
Prolly think they got a point about the hood when the Klan meet up
Damn he fucked
You gettin' the Rum Nitty treatment
That's back to back punches 'til my hands seize (C's) up
Yank fans ease up before I prove you're a lady
Listen, both our countries speak English we just don't use it the same
I don't care who in the Dot over I, it's my time to capitalize, cause that's what you do with a name
No more games
Yo, no more lame Hattori Hanzo bars, we get it
You sharp, deadly, see trouble, get drawn
But see hammerin' that steel angle is a double edged sword
I make you bite the blade, right away
So much blood in your mouth it's gross, that's your death wish
Like ya ex-bitch, I'll bring up one good point and keep shovin' it down your throat!
There is no way you're the GOAT
Just some pampered kid, lay your head out
Start stampin' it
Then it's a shallow grave, grab a spade, throwin' peat (Pete) on top of you like every rankings list
When you two battled
It's like he's playin' harps center stage and you playin' viola with your friends in middle
Get it?
He up front pullin' strings, you stuck in the back playin' second fiddle
I mean you got some bark but you're weak
You lack the heart of a beast, you're no Kung Lao
But hats off, you were sharp at your peak
But this is where your path ends at your streak
Especially when your next battlin' A. Ward
After this, they might have to host your next battle in a ward
So take your shots
Just make sure you popped a hit
Or there will be no bright side 'Mac I am not an op' to miss (optimist)
I switched the Matte black to the nickle plate
Wasn't even sure if they'd like that move
Turns out It reflect well with the glove, now I got a Mike Jack' groove
Which is funny, cause it's no longer black but still slide back smooth
Dude mock me all you want, my pen is driven
I make movies black with words so when the end credits given
That's why I stay walkin' wit' a vets
Punches will knock teeth loose, you end up swallowin' the rest
See your life ends with a box, you Apollo in ya death
Math Hoffa, I'm a Rare Breed you gettin' a Hollow in the vest
So go ahead Greg, you in London now, say what you need to say
Just remember, Portland only ever fucking mattered in GTA
Time
World Dom' 7, you got to pushin' and shovin' Solomon
Instead of hittin' bro with your diss lines and now they book you for World Dom' 8
Great
Well let's see if iron in ya face gets you emotional this time
Pussy this bit, it's mine
I seen ya tweets, clowin', oh there's different levels when we spit lines? Cool
Now I'm heated, so for here on out, shit's peak I fly in and bombin' him; blitzkrieg
I'll bury this pipsqueak, prick deep
Now you can finally say that you six feet
It won't bring him back
I swing a bat it's a body, takfuckinge a piss is what the kid needs (kidneys)
Then he'll get the TECs (texts), but there'll be no TECs (text) back
You know how these chicks be, bitch please
Clownin' my bars from years ago, that shit's weak
Spittin' woefully average multisyllabics like, "You ain't a big Neek"
You fuckin' backpacker
You cry online ever fuckingy time you lose to a black rapper
We all seen it
Liking racist shit when the fans tweet crud
Prolly think they got a point about the hood when the Klan meet up
Damn he fucked
You gettin' the Rum Nitty treatment
That's back to back punches 'til my hands seize (C's) up
Yank fans ease up before I prove you're a lady
Listen, both our countries speak English we just don't use it the same
I don't care who in the Dot over I, it's my time to capitalize, cause that's what you do with a name
No more games
Yo, no more lame Hattori Hanzo bars, we get it
You sharp, deadly, see trouble, get drawn
But see hammerin' that steel angle is a double edged sword
I make you bite the blade, right away
So much blood in your mouth it's gross, that's your death wish
Like ya ex-bitch, I'll bring up one good point and keep shovin' it down your throat!
There is no way you're the GOAT
Just some pampered kid, lay your head out
Start stampin' it
Then it's a shallow grave, grab a spade, throwin' peat (Pete) on top of you like every rankings list
When you two battled
It's like he's playin' harps center stage and you playin' viola with your friends in middle
Get it?
He up front pullin' strings, you stuck in the back playin' second fiddle
I mean you got some bark but you're weak
You lack the heart of a beast, you're no Kung Lao
But hats off, you were sharp at your peak
But this is where your path ends at your streak
Especially when your next battlin' A. Ward
After this, they might have to host your next battle in a ward
So take your shots
Just make sure you popped a hit
Or there will be no bright side 'Mac I am not an op' to miss (optimist)
I switched the Matte black to the nickle plate
Wasn't even sure if they'd like that move
Turns out It reflect well with the glove, now I got a Mike Jack' groove
Which is funny, cause it's no longer black but still slide back smooth
Dude mock me all you want, my pen is driven
I make movies black with words so when the end credits given
That's why I stay walkin' wit' a vets
Punches will knock teeth loose, you end up swallowin' the rest
See your life ends with a box, you Apollo in ya death
Math Hoffa, I'm a Rare Breed you gettin' a Hollow in the vest
So go ahead Greg, you in London now, say what you need to say
Just remember, Portland only ever fucking mattered in GTA
Time
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!