So I'm guessin' there's questions that need adressin' huh?
Like how we fresh in our adolescence and wreckin' em.
Fates handin 'em tracks, he destined to make a mess of em,
Snappin' necks and records in matter of seconds check em son.
Ber keeps wanting more till he finally feels that something's done.
Chillin' for a while on a pile of the rest of em.
Let the crowd choose who can fuckin' last longer,
It's the rap monger, rap monster, Miss Fate, attack, conquer.
Lose least, niggas lost like the last outsider bitch that we picked up at the last battle.
Please, get out ya seat, get out ya seat, my verses written with scalpels,
precise cuts like your wrists, hang your emo ass off our balcony.
we too busy chopping up all the doubters, see now watch us count the bodies like bitches be countin' calories
I know its a page back but I had to quote your excerpt. At first I didn't notice that was Earl Sweatshirt.
Until now I was thinking you were good with this shit, but your faking like an in-closet dike taking a dick.
I spit shit that'll burn you along with Earl's sweater, I'll whip your ass like people with a fetish for leather.
You and your rap can go to hell much farther than the nether. You're just some light work like ink used on a feather.
I saw your other verses too they weren't any better, I'll blast your ass to space, Fate could send you a letter.
I'll shit on your plagiarized verse and piss on your city, the people in new jersey make Danny Brown look pretty.
YO!
Return of Soulzzz!
Deadman walkin , skin you to the bones
My raps hit harder than alcapone
Speaking of jail Ive been in a few ,
Not for a crime but to see the family that created you
your worthless
your mom wishes she was birth-less
But she couldnt afford the pill
Soulzzz just killed you and he stole all your will