Bar flows and you're riding my waves
I’m a Great white shark, you're a surfer
So all you can see is my eyes
You would think I was wearing a burka

Check check I'm the best with the beats
Head for head, you’re left resting in peace
One eyebrow, I browsed your bitch
She looked like the dude from sesame street

I'm a, big flirter, rhyming inverter
Go Ja Rule when I reign down murder
Smoke green p's like I got green p's
But you still cop L's, like you drivin' a learner

I kick goals like footy
Do it for the love of the scene, the Nike hoodies
Do it for the love of the drugs, it's all good
You're a toy with a bitch of a buzz, you’re like Woody

Me and your girl left the party
Trust that, no doubt, no Gwen Stefani
Rolled up, dolled up in a red Ferrari
Then she ran for the night, she be next to barbie

Wooh, I ain’t gonna be no Ken
Little ass boy I don't see no men
Drop in the clip, no one’s in the background
Nobody cares, I don't see no friends
I don't need this beef, I don't need to pretend
I don’t need no beats, don't need no pen
Don't need this shit, I could put the mic down
And fuck you up like I was MC Ren

Your levels at MC 1
Brudda you be lookin' at a MC 10
Verse me and a MCs done
Bar for bar I leave a MC dead

Yeah, I show a few MCs love
Now all of ya'll on a MCs trend
I bleed it on a page and black out in rage
On a stage for the ? and my pen bleeds red

Tryna steal my shine, fuck that
Really wanna take mine, fuck that
Don't quit with the rhymes, fuck that
You wanna get it, fuck that fuck that

We could kick it old school, ??
We could kick it old school, ??
Mic checker, it's Mr. mic checker

Uh, Can Okan
What are you damn smokin', I'm invincible
If you're the new school, well I'm the principal
Your ex girl, that bitch was a fresh hottie
Had her playin' with the genitals, singin' now get bodied
Wooh, you wanna rap war? tell him I'm war ready
One month and then your fans are yellin' 420
One year and you be stopping with the raps
Goin' back to Hungry Jacks coz the Chill was more heavy

One week you be rappin' on some Drake shit
Next week you be rappin' like you Skepta
All you did was go n prove you bout the fake shit
Watch me cook you in the lab like I was Dexter

Fact one, successful song you ever wrote was inspired by the chill while you be ridin' on my flows
Fact two, guarantee it's literally a fact, that you faggots ?? grew up prolly listenin' to my raps
Fact three, your mumma tried to stab and make the kill coz that now you were conceived, she forgot to take the pill
Fact four, warned you not to diss me on the track, I fuckin' live for rap, I ain't gonna hold this back
Fact five, claim you never do it for the likes, but you chuck and fuckin ?? on everything you write
Fact six, you used to hide up in the cubicles, and wait for all the kids while you would cry inside the urinals

Fuck bars, bruvva that's just facts
Fuck a mainstream hook, my brudda it's just rap
Your friends, they told me a few facts
That you used to love the chill n you studied my old raps

I'm a rap killer, I'd probably smack the tripper
And go and feed these organs til' we're silver back gorilla
I smoke the cones but I need to pack ‘em bigger
Just to listen to your tracks coz your fuckin' shit is trash
Here comes the hit squad
Here comes the Chill squad