a 'lil quick bust...
Fuck a punchline, I’m still 100 percent original with mine
Syllables shine without presence when you rhyme in times
Emcees think they ill with lines but damn who’s your judge
Maggots and crews of slugs, I’m brusing thugs and won’t budge
The grudge ain’t official but the judicial is a fact son…wait
This time it’s actions versus hate n who’s backing you mate
A squad of limp gimps but I simply think that you stink bitch
I Still say fuck a punchline and ask you who’s the man
You’re the type to battle retards and still loose at jams
It ain’t music man, this is text and your raps suck hella much
Your fellows touch such weak bars like how this shit goes
lines like “so cold you’ll suffer hypothermia when I spit flows“
no pun intended, and absolutely no fun is mentioned fool
you’re by now considered a herb, so get sentenced dude
peeps sleeping, send off another mess asking for peepage
rap about skimasks, gats and guns masking your weakness
you’s a bitch and will remain sucking, no matter what slut
so when you read my rhymes don’t ask me what the fuck’s up
"I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones."
---Albert Einstein
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