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Microphone Preem

I'm handlin' you frauds

These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em

I'm bandages and gauze

Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em

But I'm havin' a menage

Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game

I'm managin' my odds

Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short

Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods

Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch

Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah

Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit

March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah

You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work

I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse

Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson

And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse

I'm tryna murder the microphone

I'm tryna murder the microphone

If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?

That was part uno, this is part two thoughThis the difference between y'all niggas and real rap

The competition fell back, niggas ask

How much did I use to drink

I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon, kinda like Pharrell's hat

But all jokes aside like I ordered fries

I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized

Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life

And Morgan Freeman was narratin'

(Say it again) I'm 5'9", not an inch taller

'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller

Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs

You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see

Same shit, another nigga gotta die today

My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates

(Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state

Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler

We ain't like a Pagan holiday

Rappers will, be actin' ill

Know when they die for deals

I take the word "lyrical" and flip it backwards

And that says "laciryl"

And that's exactly how I feel, shoutout to Guru

I got the mass appeal

I'm tryna murder the microphone

I'm tryna murder the microphone

I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up

(That was part uno, this is part two though)Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah

I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda

The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of

The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon

(House Gang what up!)

Other groups basic mergers

We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further

Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?

You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4

We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint

Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point

Brothers forreal, I can honestly say

If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'

Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'

Shady, you go through us to get to Em, bison

(Come on, crook, you wildin' again)

Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit

[I'm tryna murder the microphone

I'm tryna murder the microphone

Too many frogs go "ribbet" but never leave lilies

(That was part uno, this is part two though)These niggas might play cray, try slay me

Off my mic, vacay, call it right, it's mayday

Right foot in melee, strapped to light AK

Have you [?] like Ice JJ

Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles

Could've been copped the Phantom, copped the Benz bein' humble

Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated

It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it

How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all

Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all

A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all

Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all

Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall

From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs

It's Joey! Nicer than any rapper you rockin' to

Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit

I'm tryna murder the microphone

Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone

Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet

(That was part uno, this is part two though)

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