I’m that no name loser who tries to write rhymes

But he can’t find any inside his blind mind

In his free time and he declines to pen lines

‘Til Nate texted me like “Tonight’s the deadline!

You got your verse written?”

Uhh… strictly speakin’, no

Even though he sent me the beat like three weeks ago

Nate I got you, don’t wait until the weekend yo

I’ll write a quick rap about how frickin’ weak I flow

Cause I suck; I’m the worst of my kind

I sound like Lil Wayne reading nursery rhymes

In my words you can find I’m a thief

So I’m robbin’ thick verses but worse, and I blurred many lines

Other rappers get hype and I know they’re real

So I won’t diss you, you’re nice and I notice skill

So trill, you’re the type that can close a bill

While I bite rappers like Mike did to Holyfield

I just make some inferior rap stuff

It’s no wonder there’s nobody hearin’ my rap stuff

Your jam stays gettin’ pirated, landlubber

My fanbase is entirely my grandmother

So they tend to say that this kid is crazy

Y’all eat rappers, I eat biscuits and gravy

Bet you knew that I’m bumbling and rude

I’m out of my element, sayin’ “Phone’s ringin’, dude”

Your stuff is hot, when you’re yellin’ the foes dig you

My flow’s frozen; I dwell in a cold igloo

You’re fly like a pelican, no emu

So deep that Adele couldn’t roll in you

I act like I’m harder than frickin’ limestone

Mispronounce vegetable soup and call it minestrone

And I can’t even legally drink

To save water bill money I just pee in the sink

Yo, I’m just stickin’ to the facts, what I spit is frickin’ whack

Not a menace on the track, in a second I react

In a minute I come back with a mega whack attack

But I got no talent, the Rebecca Black of rap

You’re often on while I’m off and on, always rockin’ wrong

Pounding on the ground like I’m Donkey Kong

But I’m knowing it well

When I’m flowing my voice sounds annoying as hell

You’re the Siddhartha Gautama in the art of rockin’ raw

I can’t kick a flow, I can’t even kick a soccer ball

But in a hurry, can rap like a natural disaster

Track’s spinning faster

But I’m about as real as the Hash-Slinging Slasher

Yo, check my single, it’s like nothin’

But if you think I suck, hit the dislike button

Twisted like a French horn

Play the rap game, I’ll just sit here and benchwarm