Ahh, Joyner!
Yo, saying, "What a great battle" But you about to see a fucking snake Boy, you a pony with a pink saddle I'm truly sorry that you stuck of Drake's shadow When are you gon' (Huh) When are you level up? When are you gon' another foot? (Huh) When are you gon' us that you number one? (When) And everything that you accomplished in some years about to take me a couple months Don't you I'm bluffing neither I you were tougher, eager (Damn) How you almost signed to Bieber? You like a fuckin' beaver (Haha) Ten years in the game but yo' ass still on the fucking bleachers Boy, you another diva (Just another diva) Heard yo' grandmama kicked you out the screaming "Tory, we fucking need you" Why yo' daddy up and you? (Why) I this is how they fucking treat you And you my puppet, you my Cousin This ain't what you wanted, they been for it I'm Lucas, what the fuck you niggas take me for (What the fuck) I up in a Demon but I kill Satan for it If you attention Tory you gon' have to pay me for it All these love me but you sucker niggas hate me for it You roll up on me, catch a shot at ya door The bullets fly, you recline a La-Z-Boy All you do is cry, you a child, you my boy You call yourself Tory after The Big (Yeah) Biggie turning in his grave when he hear yo' Don't ever that you could ever come compare yo' shit Little girls and kids ones who feel yo' shit I skipped the plaques on my way to a All your records and sweet, niggas think that you candy Your really convinced you that you think you can scare me And you got identity issues, think you a tranny, really? (Damn) Tory tell us why you always gotta lie in rhymes (Why) I know up with lies can get tiring sometimes You not a G and deep down you wanna hide at the sunshine and start crying sometimes Your real name is Daystar, you been to shine And when you sing you kinda sound like you dying You make the type of tracks that had me feelin' inside take you serious, put all the violence aside Okay, talk about your plagiarism that you hate to mention (Yeah) Or talk about the hate you giving to the you dissing (Let's about it) And that writer who wrote yo' shit still get paid on that "Don't Die" record You should go pay the nigga (Yeah, man) And how the you talk about Kendrick when he a legend (Huh) Then go bite the nigga on your record right at the ending On 4AM Flex 2 minutes and 50 Sound exactly like the Art of Peer Pressure, go a listen You inspired by the niggas you name Catch fire in the rain, no to shelter you and no rain drops I seen you on Flex, I gave props But then we found out you stole Don Q from the train stop You thought you fly 'til the plane drop Ugly motherfucker tryna stunt in a top It's no wonder why used to feed yo' ass with a slingshot You my son, this the last time I'll give you a Pop Sit down, you on And get up until you see me And don't even think touching that TV No more video games, no more phone, no 3D No more radio or boombox for weak ass CD Matter of fact, give me your back and everything I bought you You a disgrace to this family and everything I you I hate to say it son but you me sick I should'a knew you weren't shit when you out with a baby dick It's no why you pay for pussy Tory you think you All you do is lounge around the house all day like a lazy Shit, highly disappointed in you son, I need answers How come you follow in my steps and be a dancer? Or maybe write a book me or be somebody's grandpa Instead you wanna be a fucking rapper with some hair No more rapping, give me pen and paper No more to the people on how you the biggest gangster Now up and get your juicy out the refrigerator You going to bed at o'clock and not a minute later No, I wanna hear it No, let be a lesson Close mouth and go into your room like I suggested I'm a get real Joe in a second Matter of fact, give me your toys, I'm adding that to the I just did a show and got it lit ya nigga And my freestyles killing your nigga Couldn't name a bitch I couldn't get ya nigga You a rebound, even Pippen know nigga You ain't from Toronto, put on the Bible I put six hollows in Ferragamo Nigga, you from Brampton, go spin the Bitch I'm from New England, me and in the El Dorado Now get on my level, I'm hard as metal I the ghetto, I brought the shovel I bury all of you little ninja You Donatello, you soft as You must be off that Amaretto It's to tell 'cause you soft as pillows You fucking midget, I you Elmo I you out a fucking car window I step all your Margielas, you caught feelings Yo' heart spinning, my bars I'm Bob Dylan, I'm Lennon, I'm authentic bars running no off limits Don't talk business, talk, listen I'm off this so you this you fuck! Nigga
What, Fuck out my face Ayy look We gonna get one in, not, let's not do this back and forth shit no more I, I think we know up, you know Ha ha ha,