| It takes a punk motherfucker to brag, but go figure
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| Flow nigga? |
| I’m leaving your bitch with more just 3 holes in her
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| Stuff woodchips into your corpse and torture you with a soul splinter
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| Blowing over you into the net, like you was a 4 foot goaltender
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| Hold ya pen up, I’ll swipe it off with your hand attached, Imagine that
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| Your faggot ass is the poster girl for Vagistat
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| You’re braggin that you defeated me with a battle rap in a hear me chat
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| Stop riding my dick… gimme the fuckin saddle back
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| Fast to react, I’m certain to, FACT
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| The only pat on the back you ever got was when mommy was burping you
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| I burn shit up, give your father a nervous hug
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| This shit is just like TLC at dinner the way that I serve this scrub
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| My words are much more elaborate than a Persian rug
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| Cause I’m more of a novel writer than the author of «To Sir With Love»
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| I twirl a thug impostor into pasta; |
| you got the look
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| But you ain’t worth a fuckin word like a speech from Laetitia Casta
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| This’ll cost ya much more than a loss, I want your life force
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| Tonight, you’re going down for sure, bitch, like a dyke whore
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| These high purity viruses, I fight off
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| Cause I’m dousing the chronic plague with industrial Lysol
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| Twice as raw, cause I pen a sonnet a day
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| Richard Simmons told me this commie kronic plague was atomically gay
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| In the most astonishing way, I be taking the the fast route
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| Battling me, You’re like a frog in a bathhouse, ass out
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| I’m reversing the last doubt, that I can smoke you in a conflict
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| Amputating your arms so I can poke you in the armpit
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| With the sharpest of objects
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| You should take immodium AD, because you need to stop that soft shit
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| Im encoding the proper topics to cover
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| Even started a non-for-profit organization to kill you under
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| I chop prison’s in half, and split cells
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| Bitch you rhyme like Ricky Martin just stuck his dick in your shit-well
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| I wish to dispel, any notion you spit well
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| Strap zarbon to a car bomb, spark the engine and excel
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| I watched your head swell from your sweetest moment
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| With Glamour Shots with an airbrushed t-shirt saying 'I Beat Tonedeff' on it
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| I deliver the type of flow components that zone in
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| Attaching to the weakest host, and then slowly drone till your brain’s imploding
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| Controlling your mind to expose you in public
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| Cause yo, my style is like a hooker with herpes — Not to be fucked with
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| Don’t even attempt to blush, bitch, or even take a stand
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| Got you shook, like the Pope and Mohammed Ali shaking hands
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| This is the way I land, with minimization
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| I am iller than all the kids in the make a wish foundation
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| So, fuck a braggin bastard with a massive passion
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| Your girl said you come up short
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| With your rhyme schemes and just how fast you’ve lasted
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| You bite more than a scrappy mastiff
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| I drafted a pack of stationary reading 'Plague's a Pussy' on the masthead
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| I’m giving the medical field a new reason to research
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| Making your head chatter enough to make your fucking teeth hurt
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| Revert and I will come and find you
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| Bitch, I will even produce the beat you’ll be saying you battle rhymes to
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| A lyrical gift that shines true to blind you
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| I would go back and obliterate your atoms if I had the time to
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| Everything you’re spitting I strike a line through, like it’s connect the dots
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| Fuck a last line, I wrecked your spot — what |