|
this star is loco, never front like criminals in a car with popo,
u ain't a thug, ya spend your whole days at barnes n nobel,
and speaking of which,like cheap diapers, i'm leakin this bitch,
ya laughing now about IV's , soon you'll be pleading the fifth,
your a lost cause, so surrendering is my suggestion kid,
before Acanthus massacres Alamo like the Mexicans did,
the lyrics u spit? umm...... like skinny bitches, a "wack ass"
and when you battle me, ya only hurting yaself like Jackass
fortune tellers sense a dark future for u,ain't no dreams to see,
lost ya principals like patterson new jersey in Lean On Me,
my punches land with eagles,n capared to me, this mans a seagull,
putcha cd on escalator rails to get it on the hands of the people,
you'll be a textcee all your like,cauz being smoked u hate to speak,
better off trying to race the streets with rat aten sneaks,
spit ashes and put ya flames out from ya face n teeth,
fuck kissing, lick yourself in the mirror n taste defeat,
__________________
THE MIC SOURCERERS
|