[Intro: Skrewtape]
This goes out to all y'all marginally talented, mediocre mamas boys turned rap moguls
Sounding like MC everybody out this bitch, making a mockery of this music shit Fuck y'all
Fuck you and that tired ass formula
Mimicking whatever mainstream flavor the muff you maggots listen to
Ya'll sound like a bunch of male cheerleader marionette motherfuckers
Voss man get'em

[Verse 1: Voss]
Fuck you and fuck your feelings
Your thoughts are unappealing
I'll snuff you just for breathing
You'll look like you're onion peeling
Say your shit is dope, but no one's buying what you're dealing
I'm high as shit, Lionel Richie dancing on the ceiling
Uh, and all these Commodores got ignored
Creativity level lower than soccer scores
What we saw before, what you got in store
White, girl? That's old
What you rapping 'bout Madonna for?
Huh? You reciting verses like a virgin
What makes it worse is you was probably up all night rehearsing
I'm wrecking shop whether or not my mic is working
Make the crowd screw up their faces like they hired Michael's surgeon
Huh, I guess I need to say rest in piece
But that's impossible cause the gossip will never cease
So I can never envy the king
Who still can't escape fame and all the stress that it brings, but
Sometimes, somebody got to kill you 'fore they get familiar
They won't ever feel you 'til you got some memorabilia
They don't want to listen 'til you're done with living
Got to believe in something, fuck it, might become a Christian
What I give'em gonna open up their tunnel vision
'Til Michael the boss, I'll turn this bitch to Dunder-Mifflin
She asked if she could call me that, I said "you want permission?"
One condition, once you're finished you ain't fucking spitting
Unforgiving, won't become a victim of the system
Honkey Ali, killing these Sonny Liston's
Casper Clay, fuck what you have to say
'Til you've got some cash to pay, don't even pass my way
One shoulder got a chip, the other colder than a bitch
Who's heart was broken into bits
And now she's strolling on the strip
So if you're really down for me
Make sure my real story will be told before I diff

[Hook: Skrewtape]
Fuck you, your plus two
Your dog, fuck your wife and kids
Fuck your bars, fuck the pen that you're writing with
Fuck your feelings, nothing iller than the life I live
We don't embellish we just tell it like it is

[Verse 2: Skrewtape]
So I'mma tell it like it is
And call it how I see it
Y'all rap style corny, it belong in a museum
It's all about a re-up from the morning to the PM
Put my freedom on point, and then some Jordan's or a BM
So it depends, who need it I could find it
I'mma product of the 90's nothing grimier than we is
If you grinding than so be it
Keep pursuing it all
But if you ain't staying true to this you're doing shit wrong
I rock bars off the top and hit the studio hard
With more 16's on lock then juvenile halls
Drop a jewel in the yard
And over mind over the mob boss
And roll to marty like a body in a drop cloth
And get my rocks off, don't care what the pot cost
I stay with some happy little trees, Bob Ross
Word is bond, y'all don't want it with the guy Voss
And that's on everything I love like hot sauce
Food for thought, ya they love it when I kick knowledge
Never see the work, the craft, like a pickpocket
Slick talker with a bic, turn a quick profit
Offer zip lock of something from the witch doctor
Let's get this shit popping
Yeah you flip verses
But you a shit merchant, everything you spit worthless
Bunch of lip service, bitch I don't get nervous
But you claim to grip burners and commit murder
Like you the block captain, homie you a cop magnet
Stop bragging, 'fore I run up top on you pop faggots
Y'all backwards, get up off the mic
They not clapping cause they hype
They just like it when you stop rapping
Nerds hating cause im always on that street tip
Street rappers say they can't relate to the deep shit
That's when I put their face through the cement
And relentlessly beat the brakes off that reject

[Hook]