How often do I have to un-load this shit to get a rating//
Bitches, give no feedback too busy masturbating//
Dictating, who’s the champ with the microphone//
While I’m dehydrating with cramp, not even in the zone//
Tongue twisting, ass kicking, life busting lyrical shit for the head//
Half of you bitches could never back up what you’ve said//
Claiming you’re a heavyweight champ, when your spirit is dead//
Your lines are whack n spread out like a bitch on smack led on the bed//
Instead of bitchin’n moaning, I’ll challenge anyone who has a confident spell growing//
Beat your ass, til it bleeds, then breeze on straight strolling//
Ganstafied bitches, carrying a pistol n gaming//
Your ass never made “gangstafied” that’s just being wishful thinking//
Sinking my words into your paralytic mind, n spreading//
Shredding the cyclone cell that metric could never expel measuring//
Septic illness within, I see your ass roaming through the bin, for a source of energy//
Infective wordplay that can create a mind bacteria remedy//
Steadily, smiling at the great crucified nigga’s, ganstafied bitches with triggers//
When really all we are is a bunch of sinners with no mercy for the weak//
Creating non-truancy children, to get education to speak//
Maybe this time I’ll get feedback, or maybe next week…
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