Competition (Acapella)

Yo, the black panther back, anyone wants to test me, the coffin is prepped

to put another body in the check, take your pen to the morgues, time to

put those hobbies to rest, I go acapella, blood on the cam, saucey projection,

I don't need a profit to stop me from catching zombies in seconds,

you wake up calm fully nasuous started coughing, your eyes are blocked

from the clots of Johnny R man, popped a socket,

I'm the king of the jungle, your flow is like a one-legged antelope,

I'm the one with the shotgun, Bamby's has another fan to go,

nicknames DJ, so let me spin a tale to up the ante.

 

Your bars are plastic, like the bottles you pop in the VIP,

while I'm sipping on knowledge, you're sipping on Hennessy,

you'll be drunk as you'll ever be, in the trunk with the Henny,

where with the meth feels dead, you'll be a stark contrast of the

world of the evergreen.

 

My second fault is a messy halt of necks and bolts, I'm a hectic shocker,

so look I've been slept on by many, their backs hurting my kidney, cold stones

on the ready, home alone with the shooter, fire pebbles at plenty,

you lose sleep on the daily, fools in the deep are the lost ones,

push a T with the shotgun, call the ER or the hospital,

I'm the best in the biz, so put your money where your mouth is.