Stop Rapper - 3x16 bars Första inlägget här, vet inte om det är kutym att lägga upp hela låtar .. skulle va kul att får lite feedback i alla fall .. here goes .. Stop hurting yourself, rapper - you ain't cutting it You couldn't place a rhyme on time if you were dubbing it The way you laid it: don't hate it, but I ain't loving it And there's a bunch of a other kids that I could place my money with See, rap is a precision game, it ain't hockey, right? Sloppy type are outta place like condoms at bukkake-nite The bars you write, you couldn't even get you own possee to bite "Hey, fuck around and you'll be screaming Aaadrian lika Rocky, aight?" Fuck y'all, I ain't bought one of you bitches records You tounge-slip more than me on one of my late-night kitchen lectures You can't spit for shit, man you'd be glad if you spit your dentures But fuck it, I ain't gonna hold that shit against you Spitlo is a cool cat, flow supercharismatically You grab a mic and get super-embarrassing automatically You need to bum a rhyme, you're summertime and I'm an allergy: I ruined you - now that's a fucking beautiful analogy Stop stroking yourself, rapper - you ain't worth it Tomato type, soft inside and tough surface What worse is, you try to make a dime of your softness Doing all that fucking soul searching in your verses You oughta make up your mind, it's one way or the other Get your facts straight, you're not a fighter - you a lover And any of my cats can leave your bleeding heart blooded Set your pants on fire if you give us labba-labba Stop thinking, man, your brain don't match your hat-size Everytime you try to go deep your shit capsize You half-wit, shit, even your daft eyes are half-sized Asswipe, should've clenched your ass tight last night Now you gotta do a new tune about homos Tryin to keep the fact in the closet how you blow those Spitlo knows, read between the lines in your ol' flows Nothing in the world you love more than dick rodeo Stop listening, rapper - you'll start crying There's on motherfucking reason you are what I ain't You lost your grip man, got no soul, you're flying While I'm in the zone kicking lines with the giants You dropped the hip part - and now you're pop hop While Spitlo is the rap equivalent of cock rock You dogs bark, but I'm a cat - I think 'fo I talk-talk Shouting "Fuck the Police" while you be sucking off cop cock So how you like me now? Am I a bastard? Nah, I'm a nice guy tryin'a save you from disaster Type of rapper, they name a gun type after Spitlo .357 makes you run type faster Speaking about faster, I've got one thing to ask How long is this motherfunking song gon' last I'm at my wits end her, man, I'm outta sap It's about time I go settle down and stop rapping ..