Originally Posted by
Bercat
Takes you so long to respond to my rhymes that I've written.
It's been a few rounds and for you to die you are wishin'.
Call me Chef Boyardee with all these insults that I'm dishin'.
Do yourself a favor and end your life. I give permission.
You're such a thug. I question the number of crimes you commit.
Suicide's easier to accomplish for such a brain-dead twit.
Spewing out all this shit with no other use of wits.
The shit that you writ is what I would find in a garbage pit.
Everything I've stated here is most definitely true.
Bercat's back with his Mac, Mowin' down you, foo'.
My raps got people stuck on this thread like fuckin' glue.
You could say the same but, no one gives a fuck about you.
My bad homie stress is building recently in my body,
Last thing on my mind is your bitch ass and ya shotty.
I shoot in the fast lane, no Mazy but Gatti,
The way I write my rhyme is basically considered bawdy.
"My milk and honey, my chérie-chérie amore",
Run in the streets? You're better off livin' in Norway.
Bring your bitch too we might even have a four-way,
Specifically your man, because to me you're a known gay.
Slit you from the bottom up and I'll drink it regardless,
Ruthless fucking being, cisswapped and I'd be a Goddess.
Anyone can shoot a rap and try and be the hottest,
How can you try to run the game, and still be modest?