[Intro]

Old school, new school, need to know this

Get ya game up, you better keep focus

[Verse 1]

And so I said that they were biters

Sharking up lines from lawless resolutes

Chip off the writers block with knives that chop against the destitute

Evolution of the manner, trade routines with verses

Gold with platinum, Kangol with Burberry, it hurts since

My verse gets termed as the worst, but when immersed in your playlist

That shit plays first, rehearse

All bars matter, harsh scars in battle

I bring tall spars with chatter yet all stars shatter and split

Battered by the saccharine gifts

Stolen from affiliates, your rhyme pattern rips

You shoulda stitched it by hand and mouth

Now you're shook planning doubts

Spitting west while standing south

All in all, success for you is not at all probable

When I take you to the lake to find out if you're water-soluble

I'm sick of bitches typing like they're slitting inches off a ruler

To be judged by, file pressing, consider my style metric

[Chorus]

That means stop biting my shit

That means start writing your shit

[Verse 2]

No rest for the weary or the wicked, stand witness

To no rest for the weapon, I must keep with tradition, now listen

This isn't just another sick written

From the dark star, harmed by the sharks, I get bitten

This is hard talk, don't expect a rescue

And don't let me catch you alone in the carpark

Cause sharkskin is fashion and that is me

Chart your anatomy, right down to your Carhartts

Used to write for a site but I didn't spark smart or

Write right, who could think it? My first pink slip

But this isn't a "How's My Writing?" bumper sticker

It's something you stick in and bump, like a heroin needle

See, this shit in the trunk is apparently lethal

Now y'all live to disrupt like American leaders

I'm gonna pull quick from the category

I run bullshit like a matador, si

[Chorus]

That means stop biting my shit

That means start writing your shit

[Verse 3]

I'm the rapier but you fear that the spear that Sparta fathered harbours pokes

Rich rappers might catch a Darva Conger in hopes

That the bitch that they get with doesn't switch approach

To the sickness, leave you witlessly buying her ropes

And rings and things of that nature

Shit, all you hear is rings, this bitch packs pagers

To get that paper, she'll find details to sell

Style's Fidel as hell, lives like a dictator

Type of chick that'll get ya car stolen

Hard toil, she might get up in that ass like shark oil then

Again, I can see what you thought was a far goal

But you can't trust those with hearts like charcoal

And I didn't prepare to punk

For when I put him in the boat, it was a Le Baron trunk

I connect for the very best sound and set

Now I'm rockin' your tooth right around my neck

[Chorus]

That means stop biting my shit

That means start writing your shit, kid