Intro:
Damn, not this n***a again

Verse 1:
I been cookin' in the 'stu like some mixed vegetables
And all I see is red might as well turned Piru
This n***a Dax dilutes the gaming like Raichu
I'm kinda shocked y'all still fooled but this gon' be the proof
Like Deshaun when I bomb
Every time I come through you hear him screaming "It's Dax!"
And I'm like this dude must got tourette's
And I swear they just can't see through his facade
You don't mind, that says a lot about you
Got his album in your room
Prolly went and bought two
And what he charging for that bull? I ain't even matador
Once I realized y'all prefer lie over truth, I shoulda been got in the booth, this was long overdue
So now it's time to put this coon back in his cocoon
But I'm at the point where I'm no longer moved, I'm amused
Gotta keep my thoughts immune, cuz cancerous people shoot your dreams like Martin Luth'
Now you eatin' through a tube
Cuz ever since we lost [?] the game been feelin' kinda blue
Speaking of blue, I heard Crypt's your kryptonite too
That bar before's an oxymoron, but you morons still confused
I still ain't changed my views, I can never call a truce
Cuz this faggot's always got his shirt off thinking that he's cool
I think about Lu' being too lyrical
Does that benefit dude? I don't really think it do
Why you think I made rappin' like Blueface?
I'm no fool, rather build than destroy
You annoyed I'm still here tryin' to break through this noise
Fill this void with my voice
Fuck your 9 to 5 unless it's a joint by Royce
I pinpointed your ploy, you couldn't see the decoy
Now you tryna throw jabs but I'm "Pretty Boy" Floyd
You think that you the truth but deep down I know you scared
This fruit doesn't compare, this lyrical warfare
But I'mma leave it there, I'm done talkin' off your ears
I'm Van Gogh with these flows, even your fans know
That I'm 'bout to blow
I'm too cold Germaine clone
I'm too narcoleptic, you could say I'm too woke
And you thinkin' you too sick you got Munchausen's syndrome
And then you swing your pendulum and got your fans sinking in a sunken place and make them think that you don't clout chase
And I heard that you was gay, I could tell by your ways
Your mannerisms quite strange, like text labels mane
And I swear that's ok, you ain't gotta be straight
If you prefer males, I'll send this letter today, I meant to send it in May
Whether or not you reign on top, you still a fake
For God's sake, whatever I say, they won't relate
Cuz Dax nation is so brainwashed
And face paint, just ain't helping my case
So how could I save face? Either way they gon' hate
Even if I'm speakin' facts they gon' still give you praise
It's easier to fool, y'all didn't convince, you all fools
That's just a little game I picked up from Mark Twain
[*Beat switch*]

[*Second beat produced by Alistproducer*]

Interlude:
Madman, you're a madman
This is Sparta (another Alistproducer)

Hook:
Fuck Dax
We could scrap
We could box, we could keep this shit on wax
I ain't Tory, you know that
Bring a vest, bring a gun, bring a Mac
And watch it go Brack!
Brack! Brack!
Fuck Dax

Verse 2:
I'm cut from a different cloth, I ain't like ya
I'm nothing like these fake ass rappers you come across
Dax first, Grizzy's like find an emo verse jaws
Hackrailing your songs but I peep the shit you on
Still a dead man's verse, try to act like it's yours
With his chest all out, pause, c'mon dawg
You came a long way from mopping and cleaning floors
But your flaws seem to keep coming back around like the claws in the contract that you signed right before you went on tour
Deepthroat this Tech 9 and we can even the score
You the type of dude to throw on little mama's lip gloss
With your knees on the floor, praying to Lord Jamar
I'm going hard in the painting, you wild flagrant
But what you expect from a n***a that love to play with balls?
And act Paul, target young boys to get far
You worse than a Catholic priest in a synagogue
Your sinning is sinister, you're sparring with a spawn
And I don't care about the streams or the followers you bought
I don't care if you get signed tomorrow to Rick Ross
Nothing could ever stop this lyrical onslaught
I'm jumping overhead, you Horace, I'm John Starks
I been calling your bluff, check your rap call law
Must've turned that shit off, been duckin' me so long
Donald, I mean Daniel whatever your name sob
Shit, my name's Seth
Let's take back that last bar
Here's some shots though
Just put in on my tab, fuck the cost
Hook:
Fuck Dax
We could scrap
We could box, we could keep this shit on wax
I ain't Tory, you know that
Bring a vest, bring a gun, bring a Mac
And watch it go Brack!
Brack! Brack!
Fuck Dax