I got problems, the flow is not common
I'm serving you rappers with a helping of Top Rhymin
Lyrics that are killing the rappers that rock diamonds
I'm sick enough to slap you with a bowl of hot ramen
Top's China, out flexing Scott Steiner
I fuck bitches, eat pussy and pop hymens
You're not honest, I'm sick enough to make an abstinent nigga go cop condoms
Promise, scout's honor
I'm so Australopithecus...oops I mean ape shit...
Going bananas, dropping hammers on all you chicken shits
I'm sick with the arithmetic
16 bars, 4 verses, 64's the product, I'm playing games but ripping shit
You were quite the actor 'til I fucked around and flipped the script
Listen: I was spitting like a person with a lisp and shit
Now your bitch got my dick written on her Christmas list...
But that's what happens when you've got nice writtens
And chicks be waiting for your shit to drop like pigeons...
So: get her a pen so she can jot my digits
You scotch brite bitches 'getting boxed like Triscuits
It's life, run away, you're getting shot like biscuit...
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