This is a song about "Wiggity whack"

My rhymes is wicked my rhymes is whack,

I can't hold back, it's time to attack jack

Hit yo ho with a muthafuckin baseball bat

Aye solve, asap why yo song is whack

I'm stashin' whack rappers in mattresses under floorboards,

I like to think i write and rap as tighter than some biker shorts

And there's no way i can pay you back

Maybe ma style kinda bad fag and whack

Yeah i know, but sometimes, you're pretty whack.

She got something i never had

The science and the art, africa

Your shit is whack, nigga

With alla this whack shit

Razor grips, laser spit

I used to want to be the messiah of rap

Your stuff in the last battle was whack