Some say BHM is shit cuz’ we faked it
But I say y’all fucka’s retarded cuz we made it
Beat your ass with a bat, bitch hit the pavement
Teach you for pullin’ on my block bitch, I got no patience
Fake bitch, pull up bruh, run up on some Haitians
Flow fatter than my ego and my ego is bipolar so
And I’m a psycho on that microphone
Throw you on the ground, then I beat you with a traffic-cone
Yung Brodog runnin’ the show, go fuck your ugly hoe
Can’t touch a motha fucka’ when they sittin’ in their zone
Fantano ain’t got shit on this BHM rap clique
Shit music don’t exist, if it did then I’d create it
Distort my fuckin’ vocals like my name was Adalwolf
I don’t give a fuck, kill the flow like an overdose
My lyrics give you cancer, I was diagnosed
Fuck I don’t remember shit, all I know is my nose is full of coke
And if a bitch snitch, then I cut throat
Y’all motha fuckas’ trippin like when I jump rope
Yo man I don’t know, I don’t think I got any hope
Might as well write this note before I hang from a rope
Write this down, here’s a fuckin’ quote
Yung Brodog is a faggot and Gucci Mane is the greatest, yo
‘Dro smoked and I’m doped up
What the fuck man, I choked up
I guess I don’t got enough enough in me to follow up
Kick it back to the Brodog flow
Gucci bro, steal a bitches purse with an arrow yo
I’m swimmin’ in the pussy, bro
Have you seen my nose? Gets me stupid hoes
But you know what? I’m a fuckin’ joke
Fuck this track, I’m done
Where’s the fuckin’ hash at?
Blah!