While you tried to write a line on your own rotten sheet I'm as boiling cube have made my whiskey finally complete
You told me rap's not yours, think up another trick I have solved i'll take a whip and I will lead spice-cake tactic I understand now why all need to be fucked up You cut your counter, as woodcutter on the casino checkup
Is it a fashion in the Russia talking shit about hustle? I broke the rules, I wear my false face on truthful mask The next line will make naive guys feel fully shocked If you're rapper, dry wine is a dealer powder hawked
I'm in nine months have beaten out a placenta Now I am angrily, and give my thanks for it to cent
Sorry, guy, i see that you are not the male alpha Bitches flows from you? I guess you're crying that whole world's Sparta You cannot earn a chicken, go twist ring-shaped roll Your sex chance is a from sex-shop doll
Our fight will be passed just in two strokes First kick will be mine and second you will shock the road Your language sounds like shit, and it's your mumbling butcher Stuffin for a coffin is a russian rap future
Your message did not informed Water in your full of holes palms in the pit returned
Life is just a game And I entered parole Now I'm like a doomguy Making aliens cry and return to home