B.itch A.ss N.igga

[Geno]

I ain't wrote a good verse in some time
or at least not one that wasn't personalized
That doesn't speak about the burdens of mine
The fire insides dying, but the furnace alive
Refurbishing rhymes for some sort of relief
Body temp climbing above normal degrees
Need a glass of the pacific, or some coral to drink
Tap the Volcanic ash from this newport in the sink
My new formulas trash, the old one was a classic
Haters gonna fucking hate, so what if it happens
Shrug shoulders with captains, rest of you are a waste
Turning your backs on a reality that's to hard to face
Pressing your pen down, pissed, til it flew off the page
Shackled by others opinions, chew off your legs
Your pegs, I'm to off the registry to register that
Check the records, by consensus I have never been wack
I can't level with fags on a lower rung of the climb
Voice is hard to recognize, plus it struggles with mine
Either you ugly or high, or you possibly wasted
Teeth are green with envy, hygiene is probably ancient
Ill stomp the statement lars is dope in concrete like a punter
To prove that gay shits an impression that nobodies under
Never roll with assumption, s'why facts all I produce
You have a list, you should scratch life off your to do's
I offer the news, my roots, and the cancer is calling
Fuck with me, pay the morgue in advance for embalming
I don't panick at all when so called threats are around
Always down to fuck you up, so what direction you bout?
Wreckless, profound, and never think ahead when I act
your all talk and no action, bronson's better with rap