Death to Mumble Rap (feat. Mac Lethal, Futuristic & Crypt)

This a warnin' shot, to every motherfuckin' Little one-hit-wonder Rap mumble brother Crypt and I figured it'd pay the bundle So we teamed up top, five dead or alive We're bringin' the rain and them goin' insane I'll be choppin' like a helicopter blade Man the wolfs begun to, hunt the jungle Stomach rumbles, lookin' for somethin', damn Where the fuck's Lil Pump at? I'm kinda hungry These kittys, better never come to my city Come to the Windy you gon' get nothin' but animosity Midwest monopolies, monstrosities Rap god, I'ma leave the beat in poverty! Hostility! Drop a bomb on the enemy Artillery, blowin' up your, auxiliary Hit 'em with the intercontinental capabilities Leavin' no stability In the Middle East, Benghazi, Hillary, yeah Will I be a kamikaze and kill a beat? Nobody really wanted this smoke So I'm hittin' 'em with the Juul pod Nicotine, Smokin' 'em like a chicken in the rotisserie Finger on the frickin' detonator, incinerating And straight eviscerator, I consider eliminating Every hater in the visible vicinity like Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator, fuckin' mumble rap exterminator Then again I spit it, wicked, demented and venomous Cause' I'm sick of the bitter Freakin' diggin' and reapin' the benefits When I'm rappin' it like a missile disintegrated in remnants I'm beginnin' to be the reaper, so I load the MAC attack! (Doo-doo!) Everybody dies when I nuke you Screws loose, losin' my mind I'm goin' cuckoo Who knew, I would be the rap Babe Ruth Jesus in suede shoes, I hit 'em and straight shoot The skeletons walk through the elements Wordsmith, the letterman, way too competitive Rap with, the best of 'em, the veterans And I've just entered the seventh level I held the devil, mama, made it out the ghetto So high, fuck it and I be the illest when I feel of a villain Killin' anybody on will, I'm villainous still a gorilla My pillage a village, is in buildins' pavilions King Kong, I'm prolly makin' a song for Kim Jon So ching-chong, kiddies sing-along As I'm rippin' about the quickest Yeah, when I'm pickin' apart the rap And I put the pen the pad And Peter Piper pickin' a pickled pepper Peter, I picked it next I figure that I'm doin' this Straight, just shittin' tracks at mumble rap Gucci gang, Gucci gang, Gucci gang (Brrt!) Shooting range, too much rage, who to slay? Grippin' I, weaponize, all the rhymes, they demise To the mumble gods when we hit 'em like it's MMA Gucci Gucci Gucci Gucci Gucci gang Murder everybody like a shooting rampage Yeah, kill 'em all, Fentanyl, blow 'em up Molotov, Mazel tov, death to mumble, I rule the game (Sheesh! Yo) Yo, I'm not a hater, but I'll call a nigga out on his shit I see alot of people makin' money off of the kids They poppin' pills, tryna hide they real feels See somebody OD, then be surprised when it happens to them I'm counter-culture, ya'll some vultures Fuck that! Prayin' on they downfalls And bump that! Use this music, dudes is foolish? Ignorant niggas flashin' they cash, blowin' money they don't have Flow infinite, I let 'em all rent it, and I laugh Futuristic the illest with the pen and the pad Since a young lad, been out as the gun blast I was writin' raps while you was still watchin' Rugrats Ante, I'ma up that Put your money where your mouth is You don't want smoke, your lung's black Took a year off to sing on a bunch of songs I was tired of the rap, but now I'm joinin' with a come-back! I'm tired of verses without a purpose I'm tired of guns in the videos I'm sick of faking it until you make it That shit don't make sense when you really broke I'm sick of that mumbling BS, that music that regress I just wanna see less I'm tired of seein' the homies on shirts with the R.I.P Letters right off of they heat press! Get yo' mind right, when the time right, I know that they'll reflect You don't gotta listen to my music, it's cool But you do gotta show the young man respect Or my hand up on yo' neck till' I stretch the cords Mumble rap: 0, Us: 4, check the score There's somebody to come at me, I'm the best with war I move in silence, comin' up like Tesla doors! (Unh! Yeah! Hunh!) I don't really know what to do, be comin' and spit fast Flow so immaculate, give me a pat on the back Like I'm Brady and Belichick, I got these haters in check I leave a mess if they thinkin' of steppin' up to the best Then give 'em whiplash Whether if you noddin' up and down from the beat or the track I'm givin' 'em uppercuts till' their feet is up in their ass I'ma kill a mumblin' motherfucker before he kill somebody else With the message that he's tryna make on the past Hello motherfucker, you heard me right? Guess its hard to listen when your head is filled with purpose right? Get merked tonight, cause' bitches like you deserve to die Get hurt inside with rhymes and it's absurd that I Have to come back and reiterate this shit I'ma charge you a fee for extending my hit-list Play stupid games, win stupid prizes They'll have you forever lookin' at the back of your eyelids And yeah, we just got back from a funeral Luke, Mac, Crypt and Futuristic, it was beautiful We had to say goodbye to some of the ignorants in the game But that's what happens when they ruin the image that we portray We don't play around, the audience should know it now Now I'm not sayin' we played a part in the death But to be honest if ever the blame goes around We take responsibility fore' we dig 'em up and kill 'em again! Oh, ya'll sell tickets like Marvel Movies? Well I still hate it like Scorsese Ya'll are just food from McDonald's And I am a gourmet filet that's more tasty I'm more crazy then a short lady Tryna' give birth to eighty-four babies In the very back of a Porsche Cayman I bury rappers then pour pavement Just because you're rapping fast Doesn't mean that you're sayin' something Ya'll muhfuckers rap so damn slow that Somehow you're literally sayin' nothin' Just because you can rap fast, doesn't mean that you can rap good Well, just because you can rap at all Doesn't mean that your muthafuckin' ass should Shoulda coulda woulda hit a hood up with a sack of Analytical, metaphysical mastermind I'm makin' a fuckin' mockery of anybody Makin' an attempt to take the fuckin' top from me A brutal ass a beatin' get the broccoli (Bru-Bru!) Build a Tommy gun and then the bodies come (Du-du-du-du-du-du!) Here the choppers come Everybody gotta win, you gotta get aboard There's blood up in the ocean water And it's washing to the shore, Ay I'm ridin' to the core, catch a body, maybe four I'm gonna drop you to the floor like this is Gatti vs Ward I got a shotty and a sword, in fact I'm already at war You know I got a perfect score And I'm stompin' you some more You'll be dead, body in the morgue, talking to the lord You ain't got an audience no more, all of 'em are bored You don't party anymore, nobody watches when you perform Now you gotta go and get a job at the Gucci store Gucci gang, Gucci gang, Gucci gang Song is two years old gee whiz. who would think? Pull your motherfuckin' pants up, your coochie stank Fuck the dumbass tats on your stupid face I'd rather listen to Wu-Tang, I'd rather listen to Luke and Crypt I'd rather listen to Futuristic, and you'd rather listen to this I'm about to really go insane in the game Give even half a lil' bit of fame to another motherfucker That got little in his name, fuck Gucci You should join the Literacy Gang Kids used to want to be astronauts in space Now kids wanna put tats up on they face All we tryna be is the best MCs This the death of mumble rap, rest in peace