Hit The Diff
Marty Mone
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Hit the Diff
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[Intro: Skrewtape] This goes out to all y'all marginally talented, mediocre mamas boys turned rap moguls Sounding like MC everybody out this bitch, making a mockery of this music shit Fuck y'all Fuck you and that tired ass formula Mimicking whatever mainstream flavor the muff you maggots listen to Ya'll sound like a bunch of male cheerleader marionette motherfuckers Voss man get'em [Verse 1: Voss] Fuck you and fuck your feelings Your thoughts are unappealing I'll snuff you just for breathing You'll look like you're onion peeling Say your shit is dope, but no one's buying what you're dealing I'm high as shit, Lionel Richie dancing on the ceiling Uh, and all these Commodores got ignored Creativity level lower than soccer scores What we saw before, what you got in store White, girl? That's old What you rapping 'bout Madonna for? Huh? You reciting verses like a virgin What makes it worse is you was probably up all night rehearsing I'm wrecking shop whether or not my mic is working Make the crowd screw up their faces like they hired Michael's surgeon Huh, I guess I need to say rest in piece But that's impossible cause the gossip will never cease So I can never envy the king Who still can't escape fame and all the stress that it brings, but Sometimes, somebody got to kill you 'fore they get familiar They won't ever feel you 'til you got some memorabilia They don't want to listen 'til you're done with living Got to believe in something, fuck it, might become a Christian What I give'em gonna open up their tunnel vision 'Til Michael the boss, I'll turn this bitch to Dunder-Mifflin She asked if she could call me that, I said "you want permission?" One condition, once you're finished you ain't fucking spitting Unforgiving, won't become a victim of the system Honkey Ali, killing these Sonny Liston's Casper Clay, fuck what you have to say 'Til you've got some cash to pay, don't even pass my way One shoulder got a chip, the other colder than a bitch Who's heart was broken into bits And now she's strolling on the strip So if you're really down for me Make sure my real story will be told before I diff [Hook: Skrewtape] Fuck you, your plus two Your dog, fuck your wife and kids Fuck your bars, fuck the pen that you're writing with Fuck your feelings, nothing iller than the life I live We don't embellish we just tell it like it is [Verse 2: Skrewtape] So I'mma tell it like it is And call it how I see it Y'all rap style corny, it belong in a museum It's all about a re-up from the morning to the PM Put my freedom on point, and then some Jordan's or a BM So it depends, who need it I could find it I'mma product of the 90's nothing grimier than we is If you grinding than so be it Keep pursuing it all But if you ain't staying true to this you're doing shit wrong I rock bars off the top and hit the studio hard With more 16's on lock then juvenile halls Drop a jewel in the yard And over mind over the mob boss And roll to marty like a body in a drop cloth And get my rocks off, don't care what the pot cost I stay with some happy little trees, Bob Ross Word is bond, y'all don't want it with the guy Voss And that's on everything I love like hot sauce Food for thought, ya they love it when I kick knowledge Never see the work, the craft, like a pickpocket Slick talker with a bic, turn a quick profit Offer zip lock of something from the witch doctor Let's get this shit popping Yeah you flip verses But you a shit merchant, everything you spit worthless Bunch of lip service, bitch I don't get nervous But you claim to grip burners and commit murder Like you the block captain, homie you a cop magnet Stop bragging, 'fore I run up top on you pop faggots Y'all backwards, get up off the mic They not clapping cause they hype They just like it when you stop rapping Nerds hating cause im always on that street tip Street rappers say they can't relate to the deep shit That's when I put their face through the cement And relentlessly beat the brakes off that reject [Hook]