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 ..