Vic, we know you a tough guy, carry drums, we don't want no drama
But why you come to this show dressed like Rihanna?
You buried yourself you should've brought your own shovel
Ever since Mariah found a n*gga on her own level
I don't mean to go back and bring up your divorce
But how that work do she pay you child support?
Now you think you styling, this is embarassing
With that turban on you look like a swagged out terrorist
And your mans over here fat, you should go vegan
You too underpaid to keep on overeating
It don't make sense, I need to keep it cool
Let me chill out before he go and shoot up a high school
I ain't really got time for all the games and playing
You hear this sh*t that I'm saying?
And Method Man a legend, but you know I got to kill him
Your career is old, I thought Wu-Tang was for the children?
Consider this verse as a PSA
How the f*ck you get them shoes through TSA?
This the black squad, black gangs, scrap flame, clap back...
All that Ra-Ra gun talk, man you can keep it
Wild 'N Out, let me tell you about Vicky's little secret
Matter of fact I heard that you and Selena Gomez was beefing
Cause last week I heard that you was f*cking the Weeknd
Justina, Justina, Justina
Red hair don't care b*tch you Bozo the Clown
You've been on here two seasons, but I'm taking the crown
Does she look like a man? Come on lets vote
She got a deep voice, I heard she got a deep throat
Listen, I'm like shorty in your life you could never ever go rounds with me
And now I'm laughing cause you're the only clown I see
That weave smell so bad, it make my lungs stop
If you take that makeup off, you look just like Yung Joc
[Conceited & Charlie Clips]
I think right now, I'm about to do Vic Mensa wrong
I mean you know what, we should probably kill him using Vic Mensa songs
Let's drive through in the Blue Jag
I'll tie you up like a Do-Rag
With two mags
Put the beats on him like Kanye
And ask are U Mad?
But matter of fact, your girl give me sex in a thong
If that weapon is drawn
I'll grab the—
You can't do nothing
'Cause we don't know the rest of your songs
These battle rappers always think they gangsters, that's the problem
I'm with the real Hitman, all y'all do is Holla
Y'all be telling them jokes, you think they cool and you owning them
But this phony ass chain is just Cubic Zirconium
Oh, you thinking its heavy?
Oh, you thinking you ready?
It ain't heavy as your man, he big body like Chevy
I ain't got time for all of that sh*t you talking
Your sweatpants trying to jump off your legs while you walking