yo, Im livin the struggle i go out wit no muscle
i hussle, put hood rats tight in a mussle
puzzled, Yeah course ya are ya dont do that
you aint in the hood boy ya just the rat
bat, never step up ya just sit in the back writin ya raps
leave the true gangsters blastin the gats
Ya nothin, i may be basic on the mic true dat
Eventually my lyrics will sell millions boo that
Who that, you that yo he that guy
Ya lost 2-0 on that rap battles front lines
The votin was fixed suck one dick they suck it back
Ya cant tell me ya crews dont do that jack
its a fact, i was a newb at the time
I went for the big guns to perfect my rhymes
Yall talk bout multis vocab and shit
But look at the game and look at the hits
Rappers sellin world wide are eminem and jayz
They big, makin moneys without ever over doin it G
Tupac could write lyrics with feelin and emotion
But he didnt always need multis and vocab to get ya devotion
Look at him now in that mansion up high
Still sellin millions even after he died
Back on the beef i got wit hit and run
There was no beef it was just a lil fun
Fel#ny wrote some shit bout word perfect so i added a verse
Didnt expect hit and run to bring out the hurse
But since its up lets make it worse
Ill sit here and type up some lyrical blurts
Man it hurts when you people diss my shit
But hey ill be makin hits while you stay stuck in this rap battle pit
It aint a battle man this just on my mind
I dont need to write somethin with lots of punchlines
If i did id blast all ya crew at one time
Run down you fuckers striaght past the stop sign
line after line time after time dime by dime
ive finished off more wannabes with my infectious ryhmes
then you fuckers have in ya whole lifetime
Ive just turned 18 ive done all this still
Ive been out writin and spittin verses they were always ill
Diss this beat go for it i dont care
Freedom of speech bitch respond if ya dare
Come after me fagots ill take all yall on
ill crush ya like magots and shoot ya dead wit my gun, son
Holla back
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