No more gimmicks...
This token’s whiter than me. Even punks are all laughin’…
His people are marching the streets. He’s in Wisconsin holed up in his Uncle Tom’s Cabin.
You gamble on equities. But, try me… I’ll blatantly own you;
I’ve been raising the game for 20 years. You’re an obsolete ‘calling station’ like phone booths.
Best believe this African hack is in the red…
The last time he ‘took home anything from the markets’ he carried it back balanced in a basket on his head.
One uppercut; this battle is BAD news…
This clown will ‘take flight’ like Monty Python’s Flying Circus while I’m relaxin’ sampling craft brews.
You’re a joke. You lack the energy and malice;
I’ll beat you over and over ’til you’re ‘looking at a worse slump’ than Jackie Kennedy in Dallas.
This troubled midget will just never be fly, son…
His life’s a rollercoaster — and theme park insurance companies wont let him ride one.
He tapdances 'round the truth. So, ya know this urban ballerina’s lonely...
Watched Magic Mike. Now, he walks up to battles to the background beat from Pony.
Hes a clown. This bitch is just so so loud.
And that fake gunplay only works for the wigger with cornrows crowd...
Goodbye.
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