(Brrt) 615 This like YouTube vs Mozart, pick his fuckin' bone apart Coyote in the holler, when it's dark, my stomach starts to bark This roadkill dead, been dead since the first track Mickey Thompson patterns slapped all the way down his ass crack 5head ass, you already know about the tall hats I see Sting on your face, barbed wire with a ball bat Can control the situation and his ass can't fall back All there is is water and he ain't fluent enough to swim, rap I got gills with the skills, you a CGI spacecraft Green screen, RhymeZone, algorithm format Put algae on the stone tab, raptor and the claw back Jurassic Park a car in my lot, tow it to Toronto, facts, ayy My ink pen a risk when I clinch it with a mean fist Hip-hop is the art, you leaped in with some cheap shit Met the grill of a redneck drivin' around in a C-10 Screamin' white boy a couple times, now he automatically thinks we friends Leave a hog at the farm, end up deceased in my pig pen Got murked with my ink tip, I'm real bored, flip trick My style make a trick flip, is that Katie Noel or a revamp of White Chicks? Transform rappers into lookin' like my side bitch I be standin' in the kitchen eatin' Canadian bacon strips And ain't nobody on my wave so nobody can sink the ship, ayy Pyramid scheme, ain't nothin' but a weak Bic Eminem attention, no gettin', make his name "E" gypt I ain't buyin' bull, 'cause I'm well known like a sea script Joe Dirt's comet, I'm only droppin' some heat shit Keep the pans in the cupboard, all my neighbors is bobbin' 'Cause I'm firin' a funky volume at knock-off Marcus Hopsin Hillbilly with an ill mind, remember Hop had white eyes He ain't tell no white lies, or hashtag his whole life This me slowed down like purple drink and tall Sprite I'm the hitter in your system, Memphis 12's all night Dude spent a hundred racks on a Shady-made beat Reenacted a classic from Marshall Mathers LP And then he fucked it all up actin' like a psycho freak And now his photo in the guard shack, somewhere in the D This is Ludacris back in 2003 An albino crabapple, lookin' like he's covered in bleach In a simulated ring, simulated competition I'm Optimus Prime, you optimizin' all the oppositions Is this dude a rapper or a politician? Is he AI-generated or got tattoos missin'? I got the juice, motherfucker, not Shapiro recognition You got your mama jokes, I got his yarmulke for ramen with the chicken noodles My shit so hard, written in Roman numerals I kill the beat so much every album havin' a funeral Dig a hater out the grave 'cause I'm a DNA consumer I got a pharaoh producer, camera angle, be lookin' lucid Every move we make is bein' made in the wave of the future By the way, when we get there you'll still need a hip-hop tutor I'm the shit poop scooper, all my recor— So boot-scoot, and lose yourself in the music, the moment You don't hit, that's why you never doin' shows Can't even get one shot, your verse from the hand of ghost That composition be empty a fuckin' lifetime My genre of music labeled as a high-crime Zodiac Killer Gemini yankin' on your lifeline Who wants to be a millionaire for no fuckin' reason, this guy Found Waldo studyin' southern comfort up on his wi-fi Go denim on denim like a carny up at the fair ride Cotton candy your heart, popcorn for no-show Kick your ass out my house, like I'm Earl Winslow You got any cheese, haha