Story Behind the Song
I wrote this in about 20 minutes because I was bored one night.
Lyrics
forever on a mission make a mc like decision
since birth it's been a vision to destroy my competition
that's no bullshittin, my lyrics guide the way/
and give blind people sight so they can see the light of day/
to allah you pray but for me you take communion/
i'll admit it that i'm flattered but that's a still a bit confusing/
my lyrics you're purusing like a tv guide/
but still come up short like two finger high fives/
you broke out in hives from words i spit on the fly/
i suggest you make like B.I.G. and get ready to die/
cause your rhymes are dry and lack any design/
basically they're fucked up like a wooden glass eye/
just wave bye bye as your ego slowly dies/
courtesy of elmo aka your mothers' prize/
ijab and glide hit your punk ass in the eye/
i guarantee you son you ain't making round nine/
round 10 either, i swing like jeter/
one stroke of my pen and i'll make you a believer/
my words are so vivid that they're seen in the fog/
wrote this shit in twenty minutes and it's still a hot song/
don't get it wrong i ain't claiming the best/
but you can mc rice cause i always have success/
your chicken like your chest, and fallin like the rest/
frankly you're so mess so this will only take a sec/
i rep battleboards kid that's just how it goes/
better text, better vocals, and even better ho's/
you sniffin from the nose if you test this squad/
we're on virtual tennis shit while you stuck on pong/
hit this lyrical bong, and you'll fall on your ass/
cause my shit hits hard like gettin nailed on plexi glass/
i get up in ya fast and in various ways/
even Rodman was appauled by my rhyming display/
you're way past your hay, and this sure ain't your day
hell i'll be juvenile, son you're just gay/
what more can i say, i would spell it out/
but your phonics is ebonics and and you couldn't make it out/
wack without a doubt, if you were a tree/
your name would be super fall cause your branches would leave/
i'ma squeeze your fuckin skull till your ears start to bleed/
cause like micheal jacksons face, your rhymes make me scream/
on my team, no way son/
you blow a little too much and i ain't talkin bout gum/
elmo rhymes for fun and for the love of the art/
but don't think physically i won't tear your ass apart/
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