The Diss

滿久之前寫的diss...
無聊拿出來唱唱而已.
別想太多.

You said you love to hustle,but you never sold drugs.
When I flex my muscles, dawg, you be straight out of luck.
Mothafuck, talk shit, but you aint from the street.
Aiming for a deep sleep, I'll kill you lyrically.
Physically, my similies, be like a symphony.
Have the beat sink in me, placing heat in industry.
Hit your bitch on high note, shift my dick on hydro.
My snares in tai-bo, put you, on mind-fold.
Don't you get it chinka, you's a bitch with no flow.
My rhymes be off the chart, while you ground on zero.
Acting like a hustla, but you never drop dope.
Wanna be a baller, but you never got dough.
You rep the dirt south, running wild on your mouth
Saying you's a gangsta with seven school drop outs.
That ain't street credit proving that you got no brain.
How can you be 20 dawg, and still in grade 8?

This verse's dedicated to the many faded,
when debated if you made it, you just medicated,
with soul-less credits, u just barracated over rated-
never gave it, best shot, you's about to get invaded.
Rest to sure, I'mma about serve this verse to be a curse,
let the words re-emmerge with urge you've never heard.
lyric-wise, I give advice to nerds like your herd,
being super-lyric-fagelistic as an adverb.
Quit your marvel nick-names, your chic games to trick fames
I spit flames eradicate and I also detain.
I came with a purpose, never surface, like condensed rain,
leave you chinkas nervous, like you dry on cocaine.
fuck your so-called freestyles that defiles with vile,
you kept a momentary secondary lyric in trial
fuck your wanna-be gonna-be pale-faced clique,
you better run back home before this trigger clicks.