Throwing J.A.B.S. Pt 2

I don’t give a damn ‘bout these bitch ass reps

I got rhymes I express that I went and prep

spamming counterattacks that make you step

Coming straight at ya, delivered on your doorstep

My words strike like thunder, make yo slacks fall back

I play a football match and leave quarterbacks sacked

You can never tackle me when your vision got smack

Into a whole different flashback, you’re slacking yo Mack

The facts will attract to niggas with backpacks

Niggas full of stacks, but doesn’t know about this climax

That I put upon on you on my fucking cue

Brotha Maverick coming through, one two buckling my shoe

I hop on the metro train, running into your brain

Bringing the pain with my strategy like Bruce Wayne

It’s on like a campaign, these rhymes are contained

With my powers that I gain and I leave yo ass with a stain