This is a song about "You can t rhyme"

I won't give you another chance, battle me when you can come up with a rhyme,

Aiyyo i argue with my mother, spring, summer, fall, winter time

Ain t happenin!!! you bitches faker then 8 mannequins

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

I'm worldwide i'm certified, pop a bottle my cali dime

You can make every word rhyme, but does it mean the shits worth my time,

I don’t do nothing but ball

You don;t thin anymore

Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense

I'm in plex, i got to munch you as t. rex,

Oh, i was raised by the stop sign

Your raps don"t even rhyme!

Are you shallow cause if not i'll take it deeper baby

But most importantly, hip hop isn’t dead no more you see

No rhyme can save this little boy or girl

Pushed twirled and rushed no time to hurl