[Verse 1: Mat4yo]

Call to tip a repeat offender

The Devil’s here, but I’m even better

If you don’t remember, I’m the slightly censored

And slender light-pigmented contender

Not Ashtin, not Casper the Ghost

It’s a rapper who goes by “Mat4yo”

Got a knack for roasting your Average Joe

Here to answer the Ashtin Larold flow

He texted me saying, ‘Yo, bro, it’d be great

If you rapped on my cypher’…I’ll paraphrase it

‘Your flow is amazing

And this is the kind of collaboration for both of our names.’

Last line on the track, I was coronated by the royal greats

They put a throne in my face

But I don’t want no crown thrown in my face

If I gotta be a ruler just to show them I’m straight

I’m bringing the yardstick

Now, kids, are my bars sick? No

Tell me what they aren’t, whack

I’ll have nun of this

Let me see each one of the fingertips on your class list

If you’re classless, and keep whistling Dixie

Then you’re about to get brand-dished

Mad at me ‘cause I don’t rap explicit

That it’s not the bird, but it’s the hat I’m flipping

That I just don’t fit in, I’m naturally different

But I actually listen to the fans I’ve been given

I’m a passionate rapper with language contingent

On pushing my grammar to maximum limit

But I can’t when the clamor’s combatting my image

If trash like this casts a shadow, I’m in it!

It’s looking like a triplet of sixes

Getting whisked in a River of Styx is the Jersey Devil

He has a hit list and it looks like my name is in it

Tell the ferryman I’ve got empty pockets

But I’m stopping this devil hot-head

I’ll test him with vim and vigor

I’ll give him an exorcism

Or, next to the X, my signature

Where this Devil Leeds, nobody knows

But I’ll grab him by the tail and stick a fork in the road

I swear I’m rapping to a jury of his clones

Will somebody tell this blasphemous Sabbatic Baphomet that I’m the G.O.A.T.? (no)

Through the eyes, I am quite avoided

‘Til they hear my voice and find I destroy it

Now I’m performing for guys who formerly

Had a specific finger held high and pointed

At boys like me, now my next employment

Should be writing for them by appointment

Just ask me how I find their voices

I abhor it, I find it boring

But if you somehow love that lingo

And wanna throw me right out the window

Well, first, I’ll tip-toe, then go akimbo

With quotes you can sew on a throw pillow

Such as, “Lean and dab, Lean and dab”

Screw Shakespeare, this where the genius at!

Only three more lyrics I need to add:

“Lean and dab”

Please snap…

Honestly, I am quite astonished

The chart lists all of these awful artists

I’m not the hottest, can’t turn a profit

But with paper, I make concepts incarnate

If a kid my age thinks this is garbage

I’mma stick his name in my diss department

I’mma hit the target when I clinch the market

Of the hip-hop heads in the kindergarten

Metamorphose to make some more foes

Form a cornucopia of horns in my wardrobe

If I knock ‘em hard, but they still slam the door closed

All that’s left is a mat for yo

The costume doesn’t make you worthy

No chicanery can change that you’re earthly

Whether the Devil’s wearing Prada or a Jersey

This is my game, and I’m not showing mercy