Dear Stan, I gotta let this pen cross the line
You took too much ecstasy, I see you lost your mind
You forgotten where you're really from, you're really a bum
On top of that, you're silly and dumb
But I was nice to you, a real brother instead
Hung out with you on mothers day, because your mother's dead
I got stuff to yell about, to tell about
How I had to swell your mouth, diss me to get on?
Well, i'll help you out
I don't know if you'll make it as a rapper, we all seen Belly
You're a very good actor
But you wasn't acting, that's your real life, dunn dunn
You gonna get killed, and you was DMX' son son
But where's your money?
You wanna start that bad?
You spent it all on Branson, a ho, and Harlem cabs?
Come on, eat at my house
No, Stanley. not the floor, sleep on the couch
Your wife, you was eating her out
I fucked her
I don't know why, she's a deuce
Maybe Stanley's mad, because I wouldn't buy him a loosie
He had them blistering toes
Four spitting nose
Waiting in the blistering cold
For a quarter, and I just said no...
But to diss me, you never had to write
Everyone in Harlem knows you've never had a fight
You're not top dog, you're not hard, you're not god
You're the type to get the work, fuck it up, come back, and say I got robbed :(
I took little off of Stanley at the outreach, even let him go to the super bowl in south beach
Take the car, Stan, whip the whip. get car jacked and pistol whipped
I ain't gonna bother, Stan
Because I father'd Stan
Maybe I let him know now
I'm YOUR FATHER Stan
Call em tampax, pussy needs tampons
Remember how they used to call you little Stan'ron, fam'ron?
You'll get slapped in your cheek
I stopped fucking with you
You couldn't rap to the beat
Man, you couldn't do an album cut
Rest in peace, you fucked my man Big L's album up
Forgive him, L
It's a pity tho, I mean, that verse was real shitty yo
Rocking on Jim Jones' jewels in the video?
Stanley's dreining, I think you need to think about it
You gonna get hit with clips, I hope you dream about it
And when you dream, I hope you can't sleep, and you scream about it
And when you scream, you gonna yell that team Dips about it
See, Stan. I'm getting tired of this pen
And even you diss, I'm not writing you again
Because you need some help, plus your shit is trash
You're a young buck, why don't you go and get some ass and relax a little?
See, Stan. this is the end
And don't come to 40th EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER again
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