Intro:

Yeah, I got a favor to ask

Chorus:

Please, put down, the mic (Pretty please, pretty please)

Like honestly why would you even try? (I don’t know no, no)

Please, don’t be, surprised (Every enemy)

That you are not walking out here alive (No you won’t no, no)

Verse 1:

I told you rappers to fuck yourself now you're masturbating, hand vibrating

On your shaft and shaking you jack off no ejaculating

I'll slice your limb off while this track is playing

Then write bars, with the arm, that I'm amputating

(Cut) All you artist got me wondering why

You say you’re one of a kind, but you’re not nothing divine

All thе music that you clowns have made, sounds the samе

Clone it’s like a vacuum to my iris you all suckin’/suck in my eyes (So weak)

If you were all gathered on a song let's be honest

Everybody who listens would think there's one person on it

And if I said you ain’t sound like a robot I’d be wrong

Cause’ every song you get up on is like Depictions from Cybertron

Saturate your vocals drowned in Autotune

But half of rap is lyrics can’t hear it so what’s the point when it’s inaudible?

For fun I tried to imitate your style

Figured it could be, instantly supplied, by an infant or a child, so

Chorus 2:

This, is how, you sound (You know it’s true)

There’s like 8 million of you around (There’s probably more)

Verse 2:

Your rapping is so garbage I could pick up and grab

To put it into a can, zip up and stashed, in a bin or a bag

Fuck a skunk your writing stinks really bad

For real illiterate litter really it's literal trash

So disposable, both of you, you and your vocal booth

Considering you’re copycats no one would even notice too

Your murder angle’s junk, I don’t notice no hearses

And it’s ironic you’ll get bodied by my throw away verses (Die)

Matt’ll kill you cats inside a church a total slaughter

For you felines be lying I’ll get you drowned in holy water

In the game you’re a cheater/cheetah but no point running away

Cause’ like a lion in Sunday school, I studied my prey/pray

Police will get more, “Ten four”, reports, another dead corpse

Blood on the brown veranda but there’s so much it’s a red porch

Dead from pencil lead or, whatever Matthews pen drawn

I found out that my purpose in life, is to end yours

Chorus:

Please, put down, the mic (Pretty please, pretty please)

Like honestly why would you even try? (I don’t know no, no)

Please, don’t be, surprised (Every enemy)

That you are not walking out here alive (No you won’t no, no)

Outro:

It’s like the movie “Gremlins”

And you dove into a pool of water

You motherfuckers multiplied

Damn duplicates