Appetite

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Beep Boop

5:55

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An entrance, incomplete sentence
Sentenced to a pendence of my career to prevent us
From going too hard on these veterans
With tremendous sweat runs carrying ten tons of cement trucks
Endless rhymes, my thoughts are scattered
Laughing, hahaha, smiling is taxing
On my poor soul, matching with my rapping
I've had it with being so genre-nomadic
Matching me, not happening, Savage in the tracks again
Fair, cuz good rapping is in rationing, got em bitch
Cashin' in these checks, that are less than fifty cents
Dammit I might just regret where and how this business went
But I'm rapping so tight, Shaq on the mic, when I spit the mist in your eyes you're lacking in sight
I'm matching that style, when I hear "who's real" I'm standing so high
Your writer is the Casper-type: you sit on your arse, then charge him
What happened to my appetite: a hungry emcee and a starving artist

Wack, my appetite can't enlight these talentless and crap
Little rappers: came from broken wrappers that their parents had
Yeah I'm getting handies, I can tell you're jealous: lend a hand
They don't trust you when you tell 'em that this fella's hella wack
My appetite can't enlight these talentless and crap
Little rappers: came from broken wrappers that their parents had
Yeah I'm getting handies, I can tell you're jealous: lend a hand
They don't trust you when you tell 'em that this fella's hella wack

Sorry if I rhyme multisyllabic
That is just my built-in mechanics, hey bro are feeling the savage
Bars that are hard to catch, if I'm in a building I do automatic
We gettin' quick, bitch eat seven dicks, he's hella sick: you need a prophylactic
Listen to my rap catalogue, check my stats: maxing all
I'm so cold and fly, vocalize like Rachmaninov
Oh shit, I'm vile when I put on oversized boxing gloves and bust your lip
And at the trial laughing like: well, the glove don't fit, so you must acquit
F*ck OJ, I like apple better
You better obey, alright time to end it
I can say words with zero coherence
As long as it rhymes, I'm the hero you're hearing
Yeah, the suits are acting like some looming entities
Wanna know how to be pro: do it, then repeat
It's about the art man, and the loudest bars, damn
When I blow up, they will kiss my arse like human centipede
I'm rad with this shit, you have to admit
Battle any rapper plenty, they laughing until they catching a hit
Bash em with bricks, I don't need to do it rapid or quick
Just relaxing, passing the time lying in maybe a hammock with sheets
Game genies and luck don't give a f*ck when battling this genius
I may be lacking in hits, but you were born by a bastard and bitch
Attacking elites, get 'em ravaged to bits, crashing the twins
Ceremony master on beats, killing every cypher Randolph Saevedj is in
Inhale
They wetter than when I finger females
Saying you got drip, I say: bitch, where
When I'm writing I put the paper in flames
Like the rhymes I spit, they are kinda lit
"But, you rhyme like shit, yeah you might just quit"
Well, stay quiet bitch, I'm on Orion's Belt
I'm on that Mayan shit, no one is tieing this

Wack, my appetite can't enlight these talentless and crap
Little rappers: came from broken wrappers that their parents had
Yeah I'm getting handies, I can tell you're jealous: lend a hand
They don't trust you when you tell 'em that this fella's hella wack
My appetite can't enlight these talentless and crap
Little rappers: came from broken wrappers that their parents had
Yeah I'm getting handies, I can tell you're jealous: lend a hand
They don't trust you when you tell 'em that this fella's hella wack

I'm ready for some action: I got lube and all
But, the truth is I'm just jacking off my voodoo doll
They're just buzzing on my woody, like some animals
He's eating all these ladies' pussies, but can he ball
Sure, I shoot shots like I'm from Columbine High School
I might do some fancy tricks to entice you
But, you're looking like a model with a matching IQ
I don't see no profit if I ain't going inside you
Going personal, you dirty cunt
Tell that perverted f*ck, I'm busy: bursting drums
Who's first in front, against this retard that ain't even merciful
If you wanna spit, well go ahead and learn this song
Line surgeon of urban persons for certain
You see me succeed, and that makes you off the urine
Avoiding the burden of watching closing curtains
But, I'm the winner, I consider this verse done

Wack, my appetite can't enlight these talentless and crap
Little rappers: came from broken wrappers that their parents had
Yeah I'm getting handies, I can tell you're jealous: lend a hand
They don't trust you when you tell 'em that this fella's hella wack
My appetite can't enlight these talentless and crap
Little rappers: came from broken wrappers that their parents had
Yeah I'm getting handies, I can tell you're jealous: lend a hand
They don't trust you when you tell 'em that this fella's hella wack

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