[Intro]
This feels like it is comin' outta nowhere
I've been told not to kick someone when they're down
This motherfuckers already dead though
So I'ma do it anyway

[Verse]
Damn, bruh, I think I'll diss you on a Dax beat
We know you clout chasin' your career lookin' hella bleak
Haha, we get it, we know that you just need to eat
You need to step out of the kitchen if you are not bringin' the heat
"You're not a battle rapper", why you say that every fuckin' week
You're bannin' Church's fans that comment, son, that shit is weak
So raise your hand before you go to speak
I'll make your fuckin' head leak
And leave your untalented body face down in the fuckin' creek
So let me introduce myself, you can call me Daddy
I want to address you, son, you've been actin' bratty
Yeah, I know it's confusin' from all these dudes that's be spankin' you
Let's just say your mama had some fun while she was conceivin' you
Since nobody wants to claim you, then I'll be the pappy, boss
You about to spend life in the prison made of country bars
It's time to take a nap, clean up your mess and delete the songs
Dammit, Munfu, it's bedtime, get up off his fuckin' dong
You said you don't respond unless their at half a mil'
Take a look at your sub count that shit is lookin' still
You say Church's bars are a reach, but you lookin' short, son
You can't even ball, bitch, get off the court (Run)
A five minute song, you barely rapped for three minutes
But that's what you're all about, huh, little substance
Oh shit, that didn't rhyme, so let me redo that
I really meant to say it was five minutes of straight crap
Let me break this down for you, hoss, it's pretty clear
You and your fanbase hear what you wanna hear
I will admit though, your future is lookin' bright
Leave you caught like a deer in my mothafuckin' headlights
You talk about victims, bruh, now you're the victim
Go back and take a listen, you showin' all the symptoms
But I got a fever too, I need more cowbell
Put that some of that in your songs, and it'll sound swell
You can call me a Stan, but I'd really prefer Dad
There's not a damn thing you could say to make me mad
I'm disappointed in you, son, you had your chance
But you're a wack ass rapper and first and last glance
Now let's take it back and talk about some of the facts
You say Church is on your nuts, but you're nose deep in Dax's sack
You are steady on his page to be the first to dislike
Because like Upchurch, he buried you without a fight
But you try and you try, and yet, you always fail
Every bar that you spit comes off a little stale
Maybe they're recycled, huh, yeah, I think that's it
You unoriginal, untalented little prick
I can't wait to have the SFJ Nation at my door
'Cause the real ones know what hip hop is, and they'll want more
They ain't gettin' it from you, son, look at your views
That means 3/4's of them have you on fuckin' snooze
I'd say you met your match, but you will never have fire
Especially with everything you say, you know you're a fuckin' liar
Always talkin' out your ass, man, and that shit is true
I hope this is gettin' through in your head and it's not misconstrued
Been on racist bullshit since you started this thing
Blamin' everybody who is white, or a right wing
But what is really buggin' you Scru? Tell the truth
Are you threatened that someone is fuckin' better than you?
Fuck, man, how sad is this? My first time on a beat
I'm rappin' better than you can, you can't extinguish the heat
Bitch, I'm like the ghost pepper that you don't wanna eat
'Cause I'll be burnin' your ass while I haunt your fuckin' dreams
Country boys can't rap, ha, bitch, don't make me laugh
Don't just say you can run, ha. bitch, get on the track
I'll throw a javelin at your heart before you even start
Then at that point, I guess you could say that you got bars?
But for now, keep on ridin' your nimbus cloud
I got the YouTube spirit bomb ready to take you down
And this time, there is no other world, you're dead forever
And I didn't even have to go full Super Saiyan, bitch