| Yeah boy,
|
| Better ring the alarm boy,
|
| Dem know its coming boy,
|
| Oh my God, fucking Bomboclat
|
| I’m hard as Kenard, the little boy who shot Omar in The Wire,
|
| Tie a whore up with barbed wire, nothing but a broad boy,
|
| I’m the real deal, and char grill on the bonfire,
|
| And Bon Voyage bitch, I’m like Chef Boyar-
|
| -dee in this bitch; |
| send a bomb to my moms lawyer
|
| Im a problem for ya, boy you think your Tom Sawyer,
|
| Til I pull you out the fucking story book and stomp on ya,
|
| Fucking fictitional characters and fariytales,
|
| Prepare yourself for Captain America on Ferris Wheels,
|
| But it aint fiction its fact boy beware its real
|
| Them lyrics you wield equals zero to a hero shield
|
| Mr fly by the seat of his pants (?)
|
| Or hit the trampoline bounce and grab a pair of stilts,
|
| And I aint wearing zilch, zip, zero, nothing, no nada,
|
| Lookin forward to fucking ya mada (?)
|
| Drop the bomb on em,
|
| Please don’t drop the bomb on me,
|
| Shady please, please dont drop the bomb on me,
|
| Drop the bomb on them,
|
| I dont want the dog on me,
|
| See aint no reason to set the dogs on me,
|
| Drop the bomb on em,
|
| Please don’t drop the bomb on me,
|
| Shady please, please dont drop the bomb on me,
|
| Drop the bomb on em
|
| I dont want the dog on me,
|
| See aint no reason to set the dogs on me,
|
| Boy, I’m the real McCoy,
|
| You little boys can’t even fill voids,
|
| Party’s over kids, kill the noise,
|
| Here come the kill joys,
|
| Me and Dre steel alloys,
|
| The rap crown royals,
|
| Scout cowboys
|
| Now how that sound for ya,
|
| Yeah boy you know we about to put it down for ya,
|
| So kick your shoes off,
|
| Before you have a sound voyage,
|
| And siyanara see ya fuckers tommorow,
|
| Get some R and R and marinate in some marinara,
|
| And have a coke and a smile, dont make me open a jar,
|
| Whip ass on ya, thats the last straw your hoping to draw,
|
| Yeah you fresher than most boy, I’m just doper than all boy,
|
| I’m that boy boy, them boys (?)
|
| I just show up go up to the stage and blow up the spot,
|
| There aint no boy who can do what I do boy I’m a star,
|
| Boy, I told you boy, I’m a Soldier boy, I’m DeShaun,
|
| Holten in this bitch, I’m the Proof boy your a fraud,
|
| I destroy you boy, fuck around and blow you to (?)
|
| Oh my god boy, you didn’t go there, no you did not,
|
| I got a whole story board for you, boy your da plot,
|
| Your gettin got whether you try to avoid it or not,
|
| Apology not accepted boy, Detroit is a rock,
|
| We get to beefing, aint no telling at what point it will stop,
|
| All I got to do is point to the spot,
|
| When the bomb drops boy does it drop,
|
| And when it does boy there’s a problem,
|
| Boy dont jinx yourself,
|
| Boy I’m Michael Spinks with the belt,
|
| String a bell boy, my name rings bells for itself,
|
| I’m sick as hell boy,
|
| You better run and tell someone else,
|
| Bringin hell boy, sing them telegrams and get dealt
|
| And to that boy who done said it,
|
| Who said he was better,
|
| I bet he never seen Freddie in a Black and red little sweater,
|
| Back better than ever,
|
| The chedder shredder the grater the beef grinder
|
| I’ll settle vendettas a little later,
|
| Giving haters incubators, think ya made a mistake,
|
| By saying shady was ghost I aint even close the gate (?)
|
| You bout to be put in a grave, stay put and behave,
|
| Im bout to turn this fucking place to Beirut in a day
|
| So hey wouldn’t you say I’m the shit,
|
| Couldn’t agree with ya more fuel to say to my fucking shit doesn’t stink,
|
| Shady fucking aftermath boy the shit doesnt sink it just floats int he fucking
|
| water
|
| Til we fill up the tank, |