MASS MURDER - Ghost Ridah (Thoma...

MASS MURDER - Ghost Ridah (Lil Tom Response)

(Paul Revere Rapping Parody)

Set on February 15, 1783

 

Verse 1 (0:24):

We got this lil bitch out here lookin’ for some smoke, my flintlock musket got your product.

It’s here to tell ya only reason you have any feelings of validation is ‘cause the British taste each other’s meat, call it a potluck.

You ain’t wanna catch me in the streets, ‘cause Imma grab the .9 and pop both yo eye sockets.

Yeah, I may have been put on house arrest, but I still got more honor than yo bitch ass.

But you can’t hide no more when my homies dox you like, “Yo, where the bitch at?”.

Don’t mind me, just pipin’ the other one, name’s Margaret, and I got hella purrs out that cat.

While we both gettin’ high, room full of hard substances like it’s a party for the frats.

Heard Gage was gettin’ straight F’s at Westminster, but we already he lives on Daddy’s money.

He’s drinkin’ grape Sprite with fentanyl, I’m chuggin’ grape Sprite with cough syrup, that shit’s muddy.

I hope he ODs ‘cause I’m sick of his simping, he’d throw away his life savings to make eye contact with a snow bunny.

Like bub, shut yo dumb gay ass up, if it weren’t for the GPT, you’d still be on “Yo mama so ugly”.

While I’m out here makin’ actual moves, I wasn’t training for My 600-Pound Life when I made my ride.

And when the British tried to stop me, I just pulled out the .9, and no shit they died.

Gage, you claimin’ you don’t just lay down on the couch all day and do productive shit, that’s a lie.

Chorus (1:12):

Yeah, stay on the couch, fatass like the good boy you is, go waste more oxygen and eat another burger.

And while we at it, get off online and quit shit talkin’ yo own guys, you is not KD on a burner.

Imma kill you and your cronies for Darwin, ‘cause y’all keep makin’ us go backwards in evolution further.#

Bridge (1:24):

Eh, call that shit mass murder (Yeah)

Eh, call that shit mass murder (Huh, yeah)

Verse 2 (1:36):

Yeah, heard Gage almost got killed in Pennsylvania, TikTok, motherfucka ‘cause we trendin’ in the right direction.

World’s damn near perfect, just gotta get rid of this little thing, and when I find you, your destination’s gonna be in one direction.

And that direction’s the eight layer of hell, you deserved to get diddled from behind by Satan while he has an erection.

Fuck you still, bet you got dropped on yo head as a baby and yo mom still got a C-section.

This bum talks about me doin’ fentanyl, says the braindead bum.

And I bet he loves watchin’ his wife’s boyfriend bonin’ her while Tyrone gives him STDs in the butt.

I know you really won’t do shit, don’t act like you got any guts.

Catch his bitch ass runnin’ from the streets ‘cause he knows he’d get slept by any real thug.

And he has the nerve to call me a fake gangster, don’t act like you ain’t some rich-ass snob.

Then watch him check out one of my bars, he gon’ go on TikTok and sob.

Then I do some gangsta shit to him, he a pussy so he gon’ hit up SWAT.

Yeah, I do bet you got a Maserati and Bugatti, just don’t act like you bought that shit yourself.

Then he gets thrown in jail for some bullshit, I hope Diddy’s cell becomes your cell.

And throw in some musty place too, it’s similar to the basement in which he dwells.

Then I walk up to him with the switch, and he gon’ shit himself harder than a mothafucka who just had Taco Bell.

Chorus (2:24):

Yeah, stay on the couch, fatass like the good boy you is, go waste more oxygen and eat another burger.

And while we at it, get off online and quit shit talkin’ yo own guys, you is not KD on a burner.

Imma kill you and your cronies for Darwin, ‘cause y’all keep makin’ us go backwards in evolution further.

Yeah, stay on the couch, fatass like the good boy you is, go waste more oxygen and eat another burger.

And while we at it, get off online and quit shit talkin’ yo own guys, you is not KD on a burner.

Imma kill you and your cronies for Darwin, ‘cause y’all keep makin’ us go backwards in evolution further.

Outro (2:48):

Yeah, fuck Thomas Gage, he’s a dumbass who shoulda never been let near a mic.

Like, I ain’t even why I’m even tryin’ him, he’s just gon’ fold under no pressure like some origami.