Yo Subeer, don’t be mad at me
I read then write, don’t rehearse my lines
It all comes natural-ly
It’s sad to see that you be all on my tip, saying my verses ain’t shit
Yet gradual-ly
My rhymes going harder
Got you chocking up
Hovering over your computer stand
While I put my feet up on my sofa man
As I watch a documentary about Iran
Have your ex up in my kitchen man
That Bulgarian chick named Diane
I never lift a finger, never wash a pan
In fact, I employ her, she calls me Madame
She claimed you were her first back when
But you still shared her then
And to think you were gon wife her…
Damn, I’ve fallen off track though
Back to your response bro
I have niggas on deck w/ certs in IT
I’m 23, single, no kids and I gotta degree
No need to trick, pay for my own trips
Got my own whip, it’s fully equipped
Use an iTrip, none of my tracks skip
And when it gets time to busting, I empty the clip
Before you reply back w/ your predictable gibberish
You should think twice about it
Cause technically, this is your official pink slip
that didn't take much
