[Hook]
I be up all hours, trying to find a deal
While I'm smoking sour, trying to keep it real
I chow down all your rappers, I make you my meal
Pussy rappers acting tough go back to the big wheel
And I'm up all hours, making my beats
Try to battle me bitch put away your cleats
When I win theres a whistle from the referee
My music underground and it runs these streets
[Verse 1]
All these lines are forming in my mind
Running through my brain like kids from "Columbine"
And I'm working my way all to the top
I know your a fake bitch you don't got a Glock
Livin' on a motto, sayin' "Fuck All The Opps"
Bitches go bang bang and run from the cops
Switchin' it around, its time for a diss
"Weezy" is a poser, and "Drake" can't spit
"Hopsin" has quit, "Logic" should have fame
Hip-Hop in the 90's will never be the same
To me the rap game is twisted in the brain
And raps I got a lot, smokin' on some pot
Bitch I'm too cocky to fuck with the SWAT
My raps enter your brain like a blood clot
Then it is stuck in your head like it got caught
Your girl dresses like, average thots
[Verse 2]
Call me a rapper but I'm slayin' all these beasts
Come battle me I can spit to any beat
Try to stop me bitch you'll be deceased
Your flow is from me, I guess my flow is on lease
My lyrical mind painting a lyrical picture
My raps are so holy I better write a scripture
Don't fuck with me though I'm crazy like Hitler
My ex calls me hottie, I'm bout to get a shottie
Don't talk to me, I'm about to leave a body
Try to fuckin' rob me, I'll hit you like Gotti
And I'll make you pass out, like you took a molly
And my brain got the seeds for lyrical needs
Growing ideas like lyrical trees
Weed unlocks my mind, its miracle keys
Im rolling up in a whip, like a rolled doobie
We know you a snitch your name must be scooby
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Rollin' up a blunt, Im'a fucking go stunt
And all my bitches fuck from the front
All y'all jealous like haters, young boy gettin' pussy like Vader
Young hitters know how to make stacks, blowing money fast, getting lots of cash
Bitches on the team, blazing green
Don't worry about prints on the scene
My team always leaves unseen
So good at this shit our nickname Mr. Clean
And I don't fuck with them blond fake bitches
Without any makeup they all look like witches
And talk shit about me I'll leave you needing stitches
Leave your body torn up left with no bitches
[Verse 4]
Im high as the sky, but thats not the limit
Try to rob me, and get popped in a minute
I treat writing as a therapy
I seem to free my mind, I start to see clarity
Tryin' to improve my status as a visionary
I study biggie every day
Emulate pac in every way
Im not looking for any fame
Just a tad bit of respect, in the rap game
And for all of you to remember my name
My name is Jared, you all get it straight
You making money off selling your weight
You also a scum, for hitting the stains
You think that you're black with your two gold chains
Don't try to rob me I'll splatter your brains
I don't do anything for personal gains