Whack rappers don't **** with the best
Creep up in your house with a black backpack
And a TAC vest, plant two knives in your chest
Leave you bleeding and unconscious, like the rest
My bars explode like hand grenades
Words more bitter than no-sugar Kool-Aid
These listeners press play, and it's end game
No money you could pay could bring you this fame
By the end of this verse, nobody will know your name
Another little faceless wannabe
go back to rappin with the Aint-Never-gonna-Be's
This for a fact I know,
that when I see you next, you'll be ringing me up at Cotsco
Or you could try and contend with me
Have you hangin' in a musty room,
Getting beaten with a broken broom
I won't tell you what your future entails
Short of it involving lots of blood spatter and entrails
Wrap you in a blanket, blacker than a flag a pirate sails
Send your family severed fingers in the mail
Take forever and a day to find you
Desecrated and punctured with a thousand nails
Buckets of your blood, fillin' up a hundred pails
Cut you into pieces, fit you in a babies cradle
Serve your brains as an entree, get the ladle
As you can see, I'm eliminating the competition
If you wish you could keep up with me, ****...
Better keep wishin'.