Stay Mad (HotSanta Diss Track) f...
• Written by G-LOCK • Featuring GoldenShower, Tewsly, and WEALTHMASTA
G-LOCK's Notes
I could only do 16 lines due to the character limit, check out the full verse in my raps.
//Intro (Godlik3)//
I heard you sneak dissed me, Tewsly, and WEALTHMASTA.
Now, we'll all end you
//Verse 1 (Godlik3)//
HotSanta, quiet down, hold you reindeer.
You made a mistake with that one, Imma put yo ass into fear.
You don't give kids presents, you give them yo childhood every New Year.
Bitch, all you do is put disgrace into the atmosphere.
Imagine dissing someone 'cause you're mad they beat you in a battle.
You shouldn't even try to start shit if you won't be able to handle.
The diss that'll come in yo face, I'm surprised you didn't cancel.
Those battles, 'cause like Jesse, you strangle.
Lil' girls, plus you can't get bitches, since you fucked so many boys and girls.
They didn't even agree to it anyway, so just like Jason, the children of the world.
They want an apology for all the kids you raped, they want justice served.
They don't want yo ass in existence anymore, you're nothin' but a perv
It's incredibly clear you get zero bitches, so stop cappin'.
I'm runnin' HotSanta's fat ass over while he's lackin'.
Fuck boi, shut the fuck up, you're only a max.
Level cocksucker, you fuck men and kids 'cause you never had a dad.
//Verse 2 (Tewsly)//
Alright, let's end these two dumb motherfuckers, Ayo,
Hotsanta think he slick, but he ain't got the flow,
Team up with a ghost, man, that’s a real low blow,
We buried that dude, now he tryna steal the show.
What the fuck, nigga, you want the OG, right?
But he can’t even diss, man, he just takin' flight,
I ain't running scared, fame, I’m ready for the fight,
Put your ass through the ringer, I’ll turn day into night.
So shut the fuck up, Goldenshower, what’s your game?
Talkin’ ‘bout mamas like you got some kinda claim,
We already killed you, took your flows, what a shame,
Now you lower than before, just a pixel in the frame.
This your last desperate gasp, you can’t breathe no more,
I’m pullin’ the meet the grahams, knockin’ down your door,
Hotsanta, don’t act like you’re still on the score,
Your rhymes are a yawn, I’m just settin’ the floor.
Thought you was ballin’, but your shots all miss,
Flexin' on the ‘Gram, but you just a lil' dis,
Got my crew on deck, and you know that we persist,
When we bring the heat, man, you better not enlist.
Ayo, I'm done, Hotsanta, you ain't got the weight,
Dare you to step, but you know it’s too late,
You a ghost in the ring, just a shadow of fate,
I’m the real deal, baby, I’m here to dominate.
Like I said, their milkshake brings all boys to the yard,
But your shit’s so bland, it’s just tasteless and hard,
So don’t be surprised if you end up scarred,
I’ll leave you in the dust, man, this whole game’s bizarre.
So Hotsanta, you done, the clock’s run out,(Ring Ring!?)
We taking out the trash, that’s without a doubt,(No cap)
In this rap game, boy, we callin’ you out,(Yup)
So remember the name, we'll forever shout.(Yessir)
//Verse 3 (WEALTHMASTA)
Evict you with this Glock, better contact your local landowner
Your entire album was you saying the same thing over and over
In fact, it’s probably one of the worst albums I’ve ever seen
Reading the whole thing is a great way to put yourself to sleep
When it comes to common sense, even Exho has a higher amount
Cause he understood he got cooked, so he deleted his account
But you’re too fucking stupid to realize you ain’t even shit
If you think you can beat us then you’re the supreme idiot
You were already demolished, you shoulda stayed in your hole
We killed you but now you want us to come for your soul
Yeah pussy, let’s take this outside, show me your skills
I’ll beat you to a pulp, because you don’t got appeal
Come at me and I’ll swing on you like a motherfucking acrobat
Cause I’m the Grinch with the green and I’ll snatch your stash
Put the pole to your dome, yeah I’m coming with that cold steel
And I gift-wrap the chrome so you gonna get the whole deal
Bullets deck the halls but you know my apparel ain’t gay
Tactical vest and some Jordans because I’m keeping it straight
You got a red suit, I got a red dot, you won’t even see it
I’ll fuck you up so badly that you’ll barely believe it
Cause I’m colder than the North Pole, Antarctica and Alaska
But I’ll toss yo ass in the furnace, now that’s a hot Santa
You brag about how much pussy you get, but we know the truth
You can only bag men, as well as females in their youth
Yeah, your hobbies are diddling kids and being a trash rapper
You’re a fucking pedophile, your parents raised a disaster
You lure children into your house, and they get captured
And then you end up making their childhood innocence shatter
Yo ass deserves to be locked up in prison with R Kelly
You keep having sex with minors when they’re not ready
I’d bet a hundred bucks you’re some 40 year old potbelly
And it would also be hard to believe that you’re not smelly
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About the Artist
G-LOCK
Member since May 20 2024