Rappers
Rappers, er your a bunch of amateurs? You think you all cool with your signatures but really you can’t rap for jack
So don’t turn your back or leave the shack and you really don’t wanna do crack, Cause you already can't rap! With you its ‘fuck this’ and ‘fuck that’
You crave a kiss but you’re a fucking rat
So don’t even try and keep up with me, if you do then soon you’ll see my plea
Leave rapping for good, go back to your hood, or rather the ‘street’ cause you’re a pussy little boy who tries to act hard
But at Christmas you cry if you don’t get a card
That’s MADNESS. Cause you know, I know to, you get boo’d
You’re a drugged up, puffed up ADICT. You don’t know what to do, you don’t know how to clap, let alone rap, you can’t set a trap, you’re a piece of scrap scrap!
Its MADNESS. You can't get along, you can't sing a song, and your not even strong,- DO YOU EVEN LIFT BOY?
Look at you! With your pussy little arms and good luck charms you think you know it all but FUCK YOU
Try rapping like a pro, bet you can’t even throw, fly like the crow and melt like snow, you can't do NOTHING. Your useless, why you even trying? Most of the time your not even rapping your crying! You say ‘Ohhh i feel like dying’
Just MAN up! Even women keep going they keep keep blowing and you know you want that but you can't even have that cause no women interested in you cause yo fat fat!
You know you are, you ain't got no scar, you ain't no movie star!
Try to rap like hopsin, but your worse than a bin, you never ever win, you ain't got a car so you can't go spin spin
Immortal Technique be bustin them rhymes, he rap about rape and commiting them crimes but you can't keep up, you can't keep the pace, if you get scared you pull out the mace.- see you PUSSY boy
Eminem be rapping like a god, he raps for a squad and he ain't even odd. You try to copy him but your full to the brim and its so fucking grim even watching you, Its sad! Motherfuckers know that you mad, you ain't got a dad and you think your really rad but your NOTHING. You couldn’t compete in spelling competition, you do your addition, you got no ambition, you think you magician but your really a mortician. You bury dead bodies cause your not good for shit, you spend all you money on buying an 8 bit, but you don’t even care! Your lonely! You ain't got anyone, you the one and ONLY! HOMEY! Sort your life out and get a little bit of meat on your bone so you COZY. PHONY!
Tryna get everyone to believe your a real rap but your not even recre-ational, your foundational, not sensational! So get out the business, stop doing rap, maybe go get a ski hat and rob a bank, THEN you’ll be tank, and after you’ve done time you’ll be able to rhyme!
You wanna be a pro rapper? Then get some balls and start some bawls cause thats the way you get to the top, ain't scared of heights but i don’t wanna fall, cause im on my way UP, not down, won't drown, not a clown im gonna stay at the top! Up there in the air, god- can't -make me say a prayer cause i don’t even care even when he glare
Rap like a man, get yourself a plan and you’ll be the Jackie-chan- of rapping! Thats what you want isn’t it? You got use your witt, you dirty little brit make sure you don’t quit!
Stay at the top, never tumble, never give in and never crumble
