Black Crocs (feat. Poncho Hoolius & King Kaiju)

Back the fuck up from me, bitch I know you talkin' shit Sneak dissin', smell like bitch, and I get that from your scent Think you slick, 'til you slip and slide away like a snake, bitch Caught in the tall grass, lawnmower blade bitch Aye I don't know what i'm saying All i know is i'm faded Wasted, like the days when i'm wasted Clock ticking, everyday ain't the same shit Living basic but i'm steady elevating weight up 1, 2, 4, that high, mid, low, get hit with the mix-up Mishima is in my blood, that Devil Jin he creepin up Your blood is seeping out of your skull, man you fucked up I thought I told y'all bitches that I play the game Bitch, i'm in God Mode, I'mma take your health away You was late, slip and combo carry to the wall Okizeme, bet you do not know what that shit is at all What Knowledge what you missing, that's gon' be your downfall If you fuck up, then get fucked up that's gon' be your damn fault You thought you was better, but you didn't know its war I'm a monster draped in armor, you a tiny barking dog With your soft-serve headass, think you hard, you a sweetheart Sour diesel in the wood, tasting like a sweet tart B.N.B.G. still pimpin' out in Beechmont Two bitches bouncing on my lap like i'm a see-saw Weed strong, you ain't got what we got Cold heart like my blood mixed with Freon Poncho, why you gotta be a asshole Cuz i don't give a fuck about my life, bitch that's why Brace for impact, this lyrical slaughter might leave your neck snapped You rolling dice with life, you ain't ready to get this head crack No setbacks, i'm high as a hippie strapped with a jetpack But pressed for more progression, i'm trying to make sure this check fat These clout demons fiendin' for features and lessons in the game But first thing i'll let you know, we wasn't made the same I'll spit a hot 16 and have to dispose your remains Then probably hit the crib to change my clothes so no one sees the stains I'm so insane, so if you don't understand it, don't strain your brain You Plain Jane ad lib rappers some trash, and you sound the same You playing games and you don't know the meta You better change, or switch lanes Because i'm low on gas from just flaming you lames You dying slow, i hope you feel the anguish And all of the pain, you don't deserve to clutch a mic You pussy rappers need a brain, or cellophane The way i hit like acid rain in hurricanes I'm inhumane the way i'm killing shit, this murder was your fate