This is a song about "Ron tennis"

How have you never heard of me, i'm rap's ron burgundy,

Paralyzed to the feeling, all the hate i see

This meeting just begun, nigga i'm satan's son

And he's killin' emcees 'till blood spills like ron goldman,

In the face of adversity, i prepared a verse to see

For the next thing down your chimney has u between sheets like ron isley

The fittest crew like a pair of nike jordan tennis shoes,

I'm just trying to paint that picture, when i'm rhyming up in this booth

And you are you too, but bitch i'm three

Peace to ron g, brucey b, kid capri

But this aint no tennis match, thats done boring

But she gon' throw it back like a quarterback option

Throw me to the damn wall like tennis ball still i'll bounce back

Bitch i got that fucking swag, you don't know my fucking dad

The irony in that is that i ain't even that, but you put it those pages

Back like dennis the menace, playin lyrical tennis in this endless rhythmical diss