Tight Ass Rap.

[Clitfucker]

This rap was written by Eightball and MJG.


(MJG)
MJG up in your shit like some toilet paper
Get fresh with me nigga I'm a spoil it later
You float back-side up in a swamp of gators
You'se a snack-sized nigga formerly a hater

(Eightball)
Heavyweighters, street poetry creators
Double-barrel blast for you pimp game perpetrators
Can't touch us, I know you want to be us
Fake ass rappers can't fuck, we believe us.


I'll add the rest after I get done thinking.

 

[Guest]

Pure grade 1 crap.

 

[mig]

Oh yes!

100% pure.

 

[neuken]

Clit

Now, that is some AV Clitfucker. That clit is the size of a dick. I am impressed..........

Thanks for sharing and the rap is A OK!

 

[medjay]

There's enough bad rapping on the radio without having to encounter it here.

Please, have some sympathy for us true school hip hop heads!

 

[Clitfucker]

This rap was written by Eightball and MJG.


(MJG)
MJG up in your shit like some toilet paper
Get fresh with me nigga I'm a spoil it later
You float back-side up in a swamp of gators
You'se a snack-sized nigga formerly a hater

(Eightball)
Heavyweighters, street poetry creators
Double-barrel blast for you pimp game perpetrators
Can't touch us, I know you want to be us
Fake ass rappers can't fuck, we believe us.


I'll add the rest after I get done thinking.

Here's the whole damn thing instead. Courtesy of ohhla.com.


Artist: Eightball f/ MJG
Album: Almost Famous
Song: Do You Really?
Typed by: bootleg210@msn.com
[Eightball talking]
Yeah it's time to get crunked up in this bitch
You know what I'm talkin about
Yeah.. Eightball & MJG, for my real niggaz
Layin it down ("Eightball, MJG") for all my real niggaz
Yeah.. ("Eightball..") Uhh.. ("MJG..")
Let's get it crunk up in this bitch ("Eightball..")
Where ya at? ("MJG..")
Where ya at huh? Where ya at huh?
Where ya at? Where ya at huh? .. ("Eightball, MJG")
This for all them.. real gangsta-ass nigga
Yeah.. for all them real, gangsta-ass bitches
Yaknowhamsayin? My brothers gettin money out here yaknowhamsayin?
("Eightball, MJG you know we can't be touched")
Real underground lovin muh'fuckers ("Eightball")
Get the club buck ("Eightball, MJG you know we can't be touched")
Yaknahmtalkinbout? Yeah, yeah..
[MJG]
MJ, G up in yo shit like some toilet paper
Get fresh wit me nigga I'ma spoil it later
You'll float backside up in a swamp of gators
Then youse a snack-sized nigga, formerly a hater
[Eightball]
Heavyweighters, street poetry creators
Double-barrel blast for you pimp game perpetrators
Cain't touch us, I know you wanna be us
Fake-ass rappers can't fuck wit what we bust
[Hook]
WHOA! - Do you really wanna get crunk?
HEYY! - Do you really wanna get buck?
WHOA! - Do you really wanna get crunk?
HEYY! - All my players, all my gangstas
WHOA! - Do you really wanna get crunk?
HEYY! - Do you really wanna get buck?
WHOA! - Do you really wanna get crunk?
HEYY! - All my hustlers, all my grinders
[Eightball]
Roll through, one deep, heat in the waistband
Jealous-ass niggaz might try and touch a made man
Crazy rap fans, followin my rap van
Wanna get a hug, wanna shake a playa hand
Smoke somethin, I'm a fiend for the sticky green
My whole team keep it clean like a pinky ring
Hardcore like a scene in Cabrini Green
Plenty green get a young nigga anything
Excursion, Escalade with the big rims
Denim suits, soulja rag with my gold Timbs
Poppin pills like a nigga eatin M&M's
Shoppin deals at the table wit the best of them
Leave the rest of them, way in the back
Weak-ass rappers get smoked like a sack
Fat Boy did that, didn't nobody help me
MJ to the G
[MJG]
Do you really wanna get buck?
Then tell the truth, I don't give a fuck
Each day is a blessin, I'ma live it up
Put ya best South fit in the cleaner
(Da-da-dun-da-dunnn) Hit the horn like Leana
I never seen a, party crunker than the one I'm in
Bitch pullin contest we done won again
We hit the scene all the women start swarmin in
I feel like I died, went to heaven and born again
Pimp tight, MJ fuckin G
Deathwish meant for anybody touchin me
I'ma hit the dancefloor with a attitude
Who's the killer now? Tell me who's the badder dude?
Who's the one who ain't afraid to let the bullets fly?
If you know you ain't gon' use it, why you pull it why?
Do you really wanna kill me and do time?
And leave ya kids and ya girlfriend left behind?
[Hook]
[MJG]
Do you really wanna hit the sauna, with some bitches and marijuana?
Sailboats offa the beaches of California
Getcha game tighter as a fist and the ice that's on it
Y'all ain't crunker than us, ghetto performers
Street roamers, still keepin the heat on us
Corner on a nice day, nigga just thought I'd warn ya
Eightball and MJG, we the buckest
Dope shit nigga, roll us up in the Duchess
[Eightball]
One of the hardest niggaz that you will ever meet
Two of the hardest niggaz to bust over beats
It's all real, never fantasy or incomplete
Incomplete emcees just can't compete
Hear defeat, I'm elite when I grab a sheet
Grab a pen and compose what my life hold
Fuck what a nigga stole I'ma still roll
Fifty deep, fifty feet from you weak hoes
[Hook to fade]

 

[MechaBlade]

More tight ass rap

Artist: Eightball f/ MJG
Album: Almost Famous
Song: Do You Really?

Can't find that song... sounds okay...

Meanwhile...

Artist: Eminem
Album: Slim Shady LP
Song: Still Don't Give a Fuck
courtesy of: planet-eminem.com
modified by: MechaBlade

A lot of people ask me.. am I afraid of death..
Hell yeah I'm afraid of death
I don't want to die yet
A lot of people think.. that I worship the devil..
that I do all types of.. retarded shit
Look, I can't change the way I think
And I can't change the way I am
But if I offended you? Good.
Cause I still don't give a fuck

I'm zonin off of one joint, stoppin a limo
Hopped in the window, shoppin a demo at gunpoint
A lyricist without a clue, what year is this?
Fuck a needle, here's a sword, bodypierce with this
Livin amuk, never givin a fuck
Gimme the keys I'm drunk, and I've never driven a truck
But I smoke dope in a cab
I'll stab you with the sharpest knife I can grab
Come back the next week and re-open your scab (YEAH!)
A killer instinct runs in the blood
Emptyin full clips and buryin guns in the mud
I've calmed down now -- I was heavy once into drugs
I could walk around straight for two months with a buzz
My brain's gone, my soul's worn and my spirit is torn
The rest of my body's still bein operated on
I'm ducked the fuck down while I'm writin this rhyme
Cause I'm probably gonna get struck with lightnin this time

Chorus:
For all the weed that I've smoked - yo this blunt's for you
To all the people I've offended - yeah fuck you too!
To all the friends I used to have - yo I miss my past
But the rest of you assholes can KISS MY ASS
For all the drugs that I've done - yo I'm still gon' do
To all the people I've offended - yeah fuck you too!
For everytime I reminisce - yo I miss my past
But I still don't give a fuck, y'all can KISS MY ASS

I walked into a gunfight with a knife to kill you
And cut you so fast when your blood spilled it was still blue
I'll hang you til you dangle and chain you with both ankles
And pull you apart from both angles
I wanna crush your skull til your brains leaks out of your veins
And bust open like broken water mains
So tell Saddam not to bother with makin another bomb
Cause I'm crushin the whole world in my palm
Got your girl on my arm and I'm armed with a firearm
So big my entire arm is a giant firebomb
Buy your mom a shirt with a Slim Shady iron-on
And the pants to match ("Here momma try em on")
I get imaginative with a mouth full of adjectives,
a brain full of adverbs, and a box full of laxatives
(Shittin on rappers) Causin hospital accidents
God help me before I commit some irresponsible acts again

[Chorus]

I wanted an album so rugged nobody could touch it
Spend a million a track and went over my budget (Ohh shit!)
Now how in the fuck am I supposed to get out of debt?
I can't rap anymore - I just murdered the alphabet
Drug sickness got me doin some bugged twitches
I'm withdrawn from crack so bad my blood itches
I don't rap to get the women - fuck bitches
Give me a fat slut that cooks and does dishes
Never ran with a clique - I'm a posse
Kamikaze, strappin a motherfuckin bomb across me
From the second I was born, my momma lost me
I'm a cross between Manson, Esham and Ozzy
I don't know why the fuck I'm here in the first place
My worst day on this earth was my first birthday
Retarded? What did that nurse say? Brain damage?
Fuck, I was born during the earthquake

[Chorus]

 

[MechaBlade]

More to come.

 

[KillerMuffin]

I thought you were a redneck, too.

My heart has done been broke.

 

[Clitfucker]

Re: More tight ass rap

Can't find that song... sounds okay...

Meanwhile...

Artist: Eminem
Album: Slim Shady LP
Song: Still Don't Give a Fuck
courtesy of: planet-eminem.com
modified by: MechaBlade

A lot of people ask me.. am I afraid of death..
Hell yeah I'm afraid of death
I don't want to die yet
A lot of people think.. that I worship the devil..
that I do all types of.. retarded shit
Look, I can't change the way I think
And I can't change the way I am
But if I offended you? Good.
Cause I still don't give a fuck

I'm zonin off of one joint, stoppin a limo
Hopped in the window, shoppin a demo at gunpoint
A lyricist without a clue, what year is this?
Fuck a needle, here's a sword, bodypierce with this
Livin amuk, never givin a fuck
Gimme the keys I'm drunk, and I've never driven a truck
But I smoke dope in a cab
I'll stab you with the sharpest knife I can grab
Come back the next week and re-open your scab (YEAH!)
A killer instinct runs in the blood
Emptyin full clips and buryin guns in the mud
I've calmed down now -- I was heavy once into drugs
I could walk around straight for two months with a buzz
My brain's gone, my soul's worn and my spirit is torn
The rest of my body's still bein operated on
I'm ducked the fuck down while I'm writin this rhyme
Cause I'm probably gonna get struck with lightnin this time

Chorus:
For all the weed that I've smoked - yo this blunt's for you
To all the people I've offended - yeah fuck you too!
To all the friends I used to have - yo I miss my past
But the rest of you assholes can KISS MY ASS
For all the drugs that I've done - yo I'm still gon' do
To all the people I've offended - yeah fuck you too!
For everytime I reminisce - yo I miss my past
But I still don't give a fuck, y'all can KISS MY ASS

I walked into a gunfight with a knife to kill you
And cut you so fast when your blood spilled it was still blue
I'll hang you til you dangle and chain you with both ankles
And pull you apart from both angles
I wanna crush your skull til your brains leaks out of your veins
And bust open like broken water mains
So tell Saddam not to bother with makin another bomb
Cause I'm crushin the whole world in my palm
Got your girl on my arm and I'm armed with a firearm
So big my entire arm is a giant firebomb
Buy your mom a shirt with a Slim Shady iron-on
And the pants to match ("Here momma try em on")
I get imaginative with a mouth full of adjectives,
a brain full of adverbs, and a box full of laxatives
(Shittin on rappers) Causin hospital accidents
God help me before I commit some irresponsible acts again

[Chorus]

I wanted an album so rugged nobody could touch it
Spend a million a track and went over my budget (Ohh shit!)
Now how in the fuck am I supposed to get out of debt?
I can't rap anymore - I just murdered the alphabet
Drug sickness got me doin some bugged twitches
I'm withdrawn from crack so bad my blood itches
I don't rap to get the women - fuck bitches
Give me a fat slut that cooks and does dishes
Never ran with a clique - I'm a posse
Kamikaze, strappin a motherfuckin bomb across me
From the second I was born, my momma lost me
I'm a cross between Manson, Esham and Ozzy
I don't know why the fuck I'm here in the first place
My worst day on this earth was my first birthday
Retarded? What did that nurse say? Brain damage?
Fuck, I was born during the earthquake

[Chorus]

Wow, I must say that that is some wack ass shit. Detroit don't have shit on Dirty South rap.

 

[Clitfucker]

I thought you were a redneck, too.

My heart has done been broke.

Shit, we're all rednecks down here in the South. Even most black people are rednecks too. So we all bump our shit and just get crunk and kick it.

 

[Shaq]

"Since I'm in a position to talk to these kids and they listen
I ain't no politician but I'll kick it with 'em a minute
Cause see they call me a menace; and if the shoe fits I'll wear it
But if it don't, then y'all'll swallow the truth grin and bear it
Now who's these king of these rude ludicrous lucrative lyrics
Who could inherit the title, put the youth in hysterics
Usin his music to steer it, sharin his views and his merits
But there's a huge interference - they're sayin you shouldn't hear it
Maybe it's hatred I spew, maybe it's food for the spirit
Maybe it's beautiful music I made for you to just cherish
But I'm debated disputed hated and viewed in America
as a motherfuckin drug addict - like you didn't experiment?
Now now, that's when you start to stare at who's in the mirror
and see yourself as a kid again, and you get embarrased
And I got nothin to do but make you look stupid as parents
You fuckin do-gooders - too bad you couldn't do good at marriage!
(Ha ha!) And do you have any clue what I had to do to get here I don't
think you do so stay tuned and keep your ears glued to the stereo
Cause here we go - he's {*Jigga joint Jigga-chk-Jigga*}
And I'm the sinister, Mr. Kiss-My-Ass it's just the"
Eminem off "Renagade" on Jay-Z album The Blueprint

"Paralyzed on the bathroom floor by pain
Last month I endured
But now I can't ignore
Feels like rail road spikes being stuck in my liver
And my dyin eyes cryin', body startin to shiver
Crawl upstairs from the basement callin my sister
*sniff* Dawn, help me, I ain't feelin to healthy
Stomach walls burnin
Head spinnin and turnin
Waitin for the EMS 3:10 in the mournin
Rush me to emergency screamin like a newborn
The pain's to strong maybe my souls tryin to move on
He hooked me to the i.v.
Put me through some x-rays
Gave me demorall to kill the pain that was the next phase
Early the next day in a hospital room
Moms and Pops in the room
3 or 4 docs in the room
My test results suggest "Your colon and your liver is so cancerous"
You got 3 months left
Me and death is playin chess
Ever since then
My strength is the most high,my fam and close friends
The Last Emp been sent free blessed me with a verse
Stayin healthy comes first, look at me, things can be worse"
The late (he died of the same cancer he was rapping about in this song) Poetic of the Gravediggaz on Last Emporer's song "One Life"

 

[Clitfucker]

"Since I'm in a position to talk to these kids and they listen
I ain't no politician but I'll kick it with 'em a minute
Cause see they call me a menace; and if the shoe fits I'll wear it
But if it don't, then y'all'll swallow the truth grin and bear it
Now who's these king of these rude ludicrous lucrative lyrics
Who could inherit the title, put the youth in hysterics
Usin his music to steer it, sharin his views and his merits
But there's a huge interference - they're sayin you shouldn't hear it
Maybe it's hatred I spew, maybe it's food for the spirit
Maybe it's beautiful music I made for you to just cherish
But I'm debated disputed hated and viewed in America
as a motherfuckin drug addict - like you didn't experiment?
Now now, that's when you start to stare at who's in the mirror
and see yourself as a kid again, and you get embarrased
And I got nothin to do but make you look stupid as parents
You fuckin do-gooders - too bad you couldn't do good at marriage!
(Ha ha!) And do you have any clue what I had to do to get here I don't
think you do so stay tuned and keep your ears glued to the stereo
Cause here we go - he's {*Jigga joint Jigga-chk-Jigga*}
And I'm the sinister, Mr. Kiss-My-Ass it's just the"
Eminem off "Renagade" on Jay-Z album The Blueprint

"Paralyzed on the bathroom floor by pain
Last month I endured
But now I can't ignore
Feels like rail road spikes being stuck in my liver
And my dyin eyes cryin', body startin to shiver
Crawl upstairs from the basement callin my sister
*sniff* Dawn, help me, I ain't feelin to healthy
Stomach walls burnin
Head spinnin and turnin
Waitin for the EMS 3:10 in the mournin
Rush me to emergency screamin like a newborn
The pain's to strong maybe my souls tryin to move on
He hooked me to the i.v.
Put me through some x-rays
Gave me demorall to kill the pain that was the next phase
Early the next day in a hospital room
Moms and Pops in the room
3 or 4 docs in the room
My test results suggest "Your colon and your liver is so cancerous"
You got 3 months left
Me and death is playin chess
Ever since then
My strength is the most high,my fam and close friends
The Last Emp been sent free blessed me with a verse
Stayin healthy comes first, look at me, things can be worse"
The late (he died of the same cancer he was rapping about in this song) Poetic of the Gravediggaz on Last Emporer's song "One Life"

Man fuck a damn Eminem dude, cuz he ain't shit in my opinion. Fuck all East Coast, North and Midwest rap.

 

[Shaq]

Pure grade 1 crap.

ROMFAO!

 

[Wiggles]

<Thanking the lord above, that we're not on voice chat>

 

[MechaBlade]

Man fuck a damn Eminem dude, cuz he ain't shit in my opinion. Fuck all East Coast, North and Midwest rap.

Well, I am tempted to stop posting because you are being quite the rap nazi now, especially for a fan of Southern rap. Of the few things the South does well, rap is not one of them.

anyway:

Come Widdit
by Ahmad, Rass Kass, and Saafir
{Street Fighter Soundtrack}

Chorus:
[all]
We went all around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[Ahmad] I'm the first batter up Ahmad --[all] well then come widdit
All around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[Ahmad] I'm the first batter up Ahmad --[all] well then come widdit

[Ahmad]
Well it's the niggerole that caught Foot Lock
cause the vibe keeps voxed in funk, makes you rock to the side
Gave it all I had, just to have what I got
Niggaz tryin to be bad, and they mad cuz they not
Gonna defeat the rapper who got three ways to sack a
Quarterback I slaughter wack MC's with ease
These nuts what you get and a busted lip
What you have when you come at me with buster shit
All that graf given driven so I musta hit
Bought a Jag, chillin on the Shore just to dip
Get it right, cause I get it, night in and night out
I'm butter, covering up wack MC's like White Out
Don't doubt it that they dissed me OK rap is overrated
Who hate it that a nigga from the West blew up and made it
And I'd braid it if I had it but for now I keep it balded
Niggaz tryin to touch to me better stop before they get scalded
I'm hot, like a skillet and grits, crush you to bits
When I look over the room, and then lower the boom, and
Think that they can defeat the man that can't be beat
I do the breaststroke clown while you drown in three feet
Beep beep like robots on Buck Rodgers plus I bust
25th century rhymes so you decline
To battle anytime had skills since I was nine
Dope lines the only weapon that I cock, I never drop
I stop clones cuz biting's never condoned
From the Westside 4th Avenue crew Jones

[all]
We went all around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[r.k.]I'm the second batter Ras Kass --[all] well then come widdit
All around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[r.k.] I'm the second... nah forget it

[Rass Kass]
My foramen magnum got 357 calibers
to bust a suckaz melon like Gallagher (pow)
Body chemistry consists of Hennessey, toxic melanin
with an adamantium skeleton like Wolverine
child, my heart pumps kerosene
Son I spit butane, burn any bastard you name till I die
And even when I'm maggots, I'ma still be fly
Perpetrator, you're not the one
Your name's not Anfernee Hardaway
I'm like a wolf with blood dripping down the fangs
My techniques foul enough to shoot the flagrant technical
I be comin off the head rougher then ribbed tip recepticles
Expect the exceptional syllables to be the next man's umbilical cord
Catch distortion, ras cancels kids like abortions
Sendin niggaz to hip hop hell, ock
Eternal damnation through writers block
I rock over the results of Reeboks and sands
stand ill, forget a live band just my mouth and hand
And even man wasn't prehensile
I'd still find ways to grip mikes, hold my tip when I piss
and pick off pubic lice
Cause see, I always been nice but first brothers slept
Now I've come back twice like Christ to resurrect the West
Check

[all]
We went all around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[Saafir] I'm the third batter up, Saafir -- [all] well then come widdit
All around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[saafir] I'm the third batter Saafir -- [all]well then come widdit

[Saafir the Saucee Nomad]
Some spit it, but my saliva is liver
spit stenches drenches been intricated, flow braggarts
Act cynic thyroid thermia hypodermic
How I earn it squeezing juices, one-hundred
percent concentrated on easing nooses around the necks
of tricks, probably won't get this
Thick hottie body carberuator
I'm the un-priggish well cat led bredded-well ill verse my
will is ho gung for the fortune
Can spell hearse with the same Addams Family apple grapple hook
Crooked, flier I fly crooked
For the crew, Hobo Junction, in a few I'll plan
father soldier and when they're older I'll teach them off
Killings of confidence and to be omnipotent with content
Accomplishment for gladiation I'm done
With training of explaining as the crates in plan B
Attack instructs me to hit the yak
I'm here, on purpose
The Nomadic, addict, merchant

[all]
We went all around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
.... Well then come widdit
All around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
.... Well then come widdit

 

[Clitfucker]

Well, I am tempted to stop posting because you are being quite the rap nazi now, especially for a fan of Southern rap. Of the few things the South does well, rap is not one of them.

anyway:

Come Widdit
by Ahmad, Rass Kass, and Saafir
{Street Fighter Soundtrack}

Chorus:
[all]
We went all around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[Ahmad] I'm the first batter up Ahmad --[all] well then come widdit
All around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[Ahmad] I'm the first batter up Ahmad --[all] well then come widdit

[Ahmad]
Well it's the niggerole that caught Foot Lock
cause the vibe keeps voxed in funk, makes you rock to the side
Gave it all I had, just to have what I got
Niggaz tryin to be bad, and they mad cuz they not
Gonna defeat the rapper who got three ways to sack a
Quarterback I slaughter wack MC's with ease
These nuts what you get and a busted lip
What you have when you come at me with buster shit
All that graf given driven so I musta hit
Bought a Jag, chillin on the Shore just to dip
Get it right, cause I get it, night in and night out
I'm butter, covering up wack MC's like White Out
Don't doubt it that they dissed me OK rap is overrated
Who hate it that a nigga from the West blew up and made it
And I'd braid it if I had it but for now I keep it balded
Niggaz tryin to touch to me better stop before they get scalded
I'm hot, like a skillet and grits, crush you to bits
When I look over the room, and then lower the boom, and
Think that they can defeat the man that can't be beat
I do the breaststroke clown while you drown in three feet
Beep beep like robots on Buck Rodgers plus I bust
25th century rhymes so you decline
To battle anytime had skills since I was nine
Dope lines the only weapon that I cock, I never drop
I stop clones cuz biting's never condoned
From the Westside 4th Avenue crew Jones

[all]
We went all around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[r.k.]I'm the second batter Ras Kass --[all] well then come widdit
All around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[r.k.] I'm the second... nah forget it

[Rass Kass]
My foramen magnum got 357 calibers
to bust a suckaz melon like Gallagher (pow)
Body chemistry consists of Hennessey, toxic melanin
with an adamantium skeleton like Wolverine
child, my heart pumps kerosene
Son I spit butane, burn any bastard you name till I die
And even when I'm maggots, I'ma still be fly
Perpetrator, you're not the one
Your name's not Anfernee Hardaway
I'm like a wolf with blood dripping down the fangs
My techniques foul enough to shoot the flagrant technical
I be comin off the head rougher then ribbed tip recepticles
Expect the exceptional syllables to be the next man's umbilical cord
Catch distortion, ras cancels kids like abortions
Sendin niggaz to hip hop hell, ock
Eternal damnation through writers block
I rock over the results of Reeboks and sands
stand ill, forget a live band just my mouth and hand
And even man wasn't prehensile
I'd still find ways to grip mikes, hold my tip when I piss
and pick off pubic lice
Cause see, I always been nice but first brothers slept
Now I've come back twice like Christ to resurrect the West
Check

[all]
We went all around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[Saafir] I'm the third batter up, Saafir -- [all] well then come widdit
All around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
[saafir] I'm the third batter Saafir -- [all]well then come widdit

[Saafir the Saucee Nomad]
Some spit it, but my saliva is liver
spit stenches drenches been intricated, flow braggarts
Act cynic thyroid thermia hypodermic
How I earn it squeezing juices, one-hundred
percent concentrated on easing nooses around the necks
of tricks, probably won't get this
Thick hottie body carberuator
I'm the un-priggish well cat led bredded-well ill verse my
will is ho gung for the fortune
Can spell hearse with the same Addams Family apple grapple hook
Crooked, flier I fly crooked
For the crew, Hobo Junction, in a few I'll plan
father soldier and when they're older I'll teach them off
Killings of confidence and to be omnipotent with content
Accomplishment for gladiation I'm done
With training of explaining as the crates in plan B
Attack instructs me to hit the yak
I'm here, on purpose
The Nomadic, addict, merchant

[all]
We went all around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
.... Well then come widdit
All around the planet, pitchin, and no one hit it
.... Well then come widdit

Man bullshit, the South ain't all commercialized like all the other regions of rap (i.e. East Coast, West Coast, North and Midwest).

 

[Private Vasquez]

c'mon Petey Pablo, commercial rap comes from every corner of this country.

 

[Clitfucker]

c'mon Petey Pablo, commercial rap comes from every corner of this country.

Don't ever mention his name ever again, cuz he is about as wack as P. Diddy.

 

[Private Vasquez]

okay, li'l Wayne, I won't

 

[Clitfucker]

okay, li'l Wayne, I won't

Don't mention his name either, cuz he basically can't rap or stay on the beat.