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I'm you frauds
These ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em
I'm bandages and
Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus 'em
But I'm havin' a
Fuckin' the rap game, and the trap game
I'm managin' my
Man these rappers out here reachin', your are too short
Take the boxing gloves off, 'em to the gods
Slaughterhouse, we the military in bitch
Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in bitch, yeah
Fuck apology, I'ma be on astrology shit
March into war like in this bitch, yeah
You it light work, nigga this is my life's work
I turn around and beat up a beat I'm writin' Ike's verse
Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't Joe Jackson
And Douglas could ever do a mic worse
I'm tryna the microphone
I'm tryna murder the
If you are you eat, how come I'm not pussy?
That was part uno, this is part two

This the difference between y'all and real rap
The competition fell back, ask
How did I use to drink
I tell 'em off the top of my about a gallon, kinda like Pharrell's hat
But all aside like I ordered fries
I'm liable to store somebody's in the closet, I'm organized
Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the of my life
And Morgan was narratin'
(Say it again) I'm 5'9", not an inch
'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been
Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was thiefs
You let it out your sight and they it to sight see
shit, another nigga gotta die today
My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on
(Why) we ain't vacayin' out of
Whinin' all the time, all she do was
We ain't like a Pagan
Rappers will, be ill
Know when they die for
I take the word "lyrical" and it backwards
And that "laciryl"
And that's how I feel, shoutout to Guru
I got the appeal
I'm tryna murder the
I'm tryna murder the
I'll give up when she give her emotions up
(That was part uno, is part two though)

Oh you don't, let me learn yah
I the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda
The nerve of anyone who ain't of
The gang that don't simultaneous for the sake of the sermon
(House what up!)
Other basic mergers
We extort 'em from a distance, it further
could be all yours, why you want a war for?
You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a 4
We started out as just a on a Joe joint
Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe
Brothers forreal, I can say
If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm typin'
Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's
Shady, you go us to get to Em, bison
(Come on, crook, you again)
Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do shit
[I'm tryna the microphone
I'm tryna the microphone
Too many frogs go "ribbet" but never lilies
(That was part uno, is part two though)

These niggas might play cray, try me
Off my mic, vacay, call it right, it's
Right foot in melee, strapped to AK
Have you [?] Ice JJ
Do it for Em, my squad do it for
been copped the Phantom, copped the Benz bein' humble
Still, the plate is known to get 'em situated
It's return fire, even Joey initiate it
How I about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all
Drake about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all
A guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all
clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all
Cause when it's gats involved, fall
the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs
It's Joey! Nicer than any rapper you to
Call a spade a spade, try to follow suit
I'm tryna murder the
it back to life, I murder that microphone
Too many big dogs, not enough yet
(That was part uno, this is two though)