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Şarkı

Yeah, ya know? Critics man Critics never got nothin' nice to say, man You know the one thing I notice about critics, man? Is critics never ask me how my day went Well, I'mma tell 'em Yesterday my dog died, I hog tied a ho, tied her in a bow Said next time you blow up try to spit a flow You wanna criticize dog try a little mo' I'm so tired of this I could blow, fire in the hole I'm fired up so fire up the lighter and the 'dro Better hold on a little tighter here I go Flows tighter, hot headed as ghost rider Cold hearted as spiderman throwin' a spider in the snow So ya better get to blowin in flow rider Inside of a low rider with no tires in the hole Why am I like this? Why is winter cold? Why is it when I talk, I'm so biased to the hoes? Listen dog, Christmas is off, this is as soft as it gets This isn't gob this is a blister in the salt Those are your wounds this is the salt, so get lost Shit dissin' me is just like pissin' off the wizard of oz Wrap a lizard in gauze, beat you in the jaws with it Grab the scissors and saws And cut out your livers gizzards and balls Throw you in the middle of the ocean in the blizzard with jaws So sip piss like sizzurp through a straw Then describe how it tasted like dessert to us all Got the gall to make Chris piss in his draws Ticklin' him go to his grave, skip him and visit his dog You're on fire That's how ya know your on a roll 'Cause when you hot it's like your burnin' up everyone else's cold Your on fire Man, I'm so fuckin' sick, I got ambulances pullin' me over and shit You're on fire Ya need to stop drop and roll 'cause when you say the shit To give the whole hip hop shop the blow You're on fire, yeah, you're on fire I just wrote a bullshit hook in between two long ass verses If you mistook the for a song, look This ain't a song it's a warnin' to Brooke Hogan and David Cook That the crook just took over so book Run as fast as you can, stop writin' and kill it I'm lightning in a skillet, your a fuckin' flash in a pan I pop up you bitches scatter like hot grease splashin' a fan Mr Mathers is the man Yeah, I'm pissed but I would rather take this energy And stash it in a can, come back and whip your ass with it again Salivas like sulfuric acid in your hand it'll eat through Anything metal the ass of iron man Turn him into plastic so for you to think That you could stand a fuckin' chance is assanine Yeah, ask the nine man, hit a blind man with a coloring book And told him color inside the lines or get hit widda fine crayon Fuck it I ain't playin', pull up in a van and hop out At a homeless man holdin' a sign sayin' Vietnam vet, I'm out my fuckin' mind, man Kick over the can beat his ass and leave him 9 grand So if I seem a little mean to you This ain't savage you ain't never seen the brew You wanna get graphic we can go the scenic route You couldn't make a belemic puke On a piece of fuckin' corn and peanut boo Sayin' you sick, quit playin' you prick don't nobody care Then why the fuck am I yellin' at air I ain't even talkin' to no one 'cause ain't nobody there Nobody will fuckin' test me 'cause these hos won't even dare I'm wastin' punchlines but I got so many to spare I just thought of another one that might go here Naw, don't waste it save it, psycho, yeah Plus you gotta rewrite those lines that you said about Michael's hair You're on fire That's how ya know your on a roll 'Cause when you hot it's like your burnin' up everyone else's cold You're on fire Man, I'm so hot my motherfuckin' firetrucks on fire, homie You're on fire Ya need to stop drop and roll 'cause when you say the shit To give the whole hip hop shop the blow You're on fire, yeah, your on fire You're on fire