TheMadWriter

Grab the microphone, hoody and a flat billed cap/
Gold chain, might go chrome but the rap seals that/
Spit a verse, rip a sixteen and the crowd really doubts him/
Comin from Philly housin, punches 'gainst silly blouses/
Thrilling's ousted, you're judged by the illest mouthin/
Feel him growlin? The earth quakes from his talent/
The realest malice, jealousy comes from the foulest/
Catch em prowlin, callin him fake they're owls howlin/
In the distance, they missed it useless persistence/
Cuz even with assistance no one would give a shit bitch/
Reach acceptance, no rep but he's still receptive/
Perceptive, crowd's sleepin on him narcoleptic/
He's epic seizin the game he's an epileptic/
Antiseptic, immune to the game's wretched/
Wreckless, disease leavin rappers all infected/
Reject it, go on with his life success is fetched it/
Pervades, cuz even with another mixtape/
He's got a sick take on Hip Hop's death and outbreak/
And he conveys it through his music, haters try to use it/
Against him, to no avail cuz these niggas been dumb/
Wieldin the title belt and raisin the new school/
He's ready to school fools, reshape and skew fools/
They don't really understand what's old and new cool/
Their basic, he's cruel right up against the Blues Clues/
He won't take it, no matter if it's afro or braids shit/
Black or African or if their mastered their brain's shit/
A killer in an aspect unseen and unknown/
These dudes are mundane his rhymes are homegrown/
Slaughter, rip the braids out of the hair of the martyr/
And trade em for a name to his victim list in a barter/
Smack the nigga in his face for accusin his voice/
When he cowers from a battle that's illudin his choice/
He wants...some other shit, he's suckin his brother's dick/
His rhymes are taboo like he's playin with his mother's clit/
But fuck that, this chickens ain't got guns their clucks blat/
This dude ain't got bitches but he sure as hell sucks fat/
Fuck that nigga Braids, try to betray the kid/
He needs to stop, his brakes might not ever refrain from skids/
But either way, i'ma kill him in the dark a lighter way/
Put the beam on his head and then I let the fire play/
I'll kill you and PB, you both mastered the head/
Then the cops will stroll by to see another bastard dead....

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