I support the underground and rap dope so whats the hate for,
Sometimes talking ain't enough that's what the violence is for,
That's why Im sneaking into rappers house through the back door
Keep a blade on me at all times keep it low like my credit score
Handcuff ya to the bed frame while you sleeping and set it a blaze,
Then burn the page where I wrote this to avoid the cage,
But the nonsense you speaking got me full of rage,
So fuck it ill go out with a bang damn how I miss rocking a stage,
So in the meantime this track will have to do,
Like the first broad to give you attention after a break up I guess this fat bitch will have do,
But Legs Open Very Easily with a quick rub now that's love
Beat it up don't stop until she cumin just don't forget the glove,
Finish up after she swallows it up,
Shhh you hear that?
think that's my homie Dan calling you a slut, what's up,
Where did I come from? shit My parents and the proper authorities still trying to figure that out,
Word of mouth says I'm a carnivore looking for rappers hunting in packs that's what I'm talking about,
Don't let my charm and smile fool ya Baby I'm far from friendly,
If it was up to me I'd slap the shit out you but my crew won't let me,
So I'll just settle for a beat, some weed, and I'll trash talk,
Fuck our president has no political background time for me to hit the charts,
Might take a minute to get it but I'll get it it's coming don't you worry about nothin,
Summon a demon just to exercise him to remind the devil know that I'm coming,

switching lanes cause you in my way,
Btw This Harley street bob make it easier to get laid,
Hit the throttle that's the motto,
until me and my team finally get paid,
I mean I just wanna be broke forever fuck out my face ain't nobody that lame,
Paying my bills cause my raps what's wrong with that,
Dream job I want if you don't hate I won't hate back,
The homie Lo Key said fuck hip hop so that's what I did,
Now I spit this wicked shit and have been since I was a kid,
I'm a creep and I don't mean Radiohead,
I'm outta my mind and don't mean mushroomhead,

Fill you with lead and I ain't talking about a beretta,
make this #2 pencil disappear like Health Ledger let you decided who did it better,
Been known to make rappers Yale without going to college,
Think I painted that picture well that's why you can call me an artist,
Starving one at that a little tapped off my hinge,
Binge watching my murder tapes enough to make you cringe,
Take a crack fiends syringe andh jam it in your neck where you sittin,
The take this rope and tie 13 knots in it and leave you hanging from a ceilin'
This is my therapy where I let this anger out,
The rage disappears after I say it out loud,
So welcome back to the show take a seat and sit down
Anger Management in full effect, now watch me flood the underground.