Your rhymes were a bin bag thrown in the trash, couldn't even write a sentence, dyslexia of meaning
and ****** up sentences that weren't even spelt write.
Couldn't even spin a line, as it was meant to be straight
but your words were more wavy than a bad perm.
There isn't room for a failed wanna be,
alone in your room ******* hard,
But your more empty than the raisin ***** your trying to spit out of...
Non consequential wording that doesn't flow down stream, more like your floating bloated breath releasing putrid gas
that stinks more than what they were belching out.
I never insult the cadavers of dead lines,
but your words were buried even before you opened that hurse of dead beats.
a handful of rhymes that were more powerful than your buried career,
sorry you were a foot in the grave even before you opened your mouth.
Song I wrote after I used your girl..
I wasn't the one she wanted it was you, but I gave her what she wanted
and that never included you..
Every thing you wanted I stole, and gave her fake wishes that were tarnished but she never looked beyond the moment seeing the stitching of us was more fake than the smiles I gave her.
I knew she wanted to be with you, but I was the salesman of woman..
While you were the boy next door, I was the salesmen showing her fake dreams..
Don't worry you can have her after I've used her enough, I'll even trade her in for a good price..
Ye, she'll be broken..
But everything is always defective after I've rode it enough...
Her crown maybe cracked, but she'll be yours even though she'll be thinking of me even though your in her, I'm the length she'll remember but she'll be your crack queen.