Please tell me R2// wut you know about a fam//
Cuz as far as I'm concerned// you don't bang either man//
Speakin of 'composure'// foo you iz a straight pozer//
Some little rich fuck// that i'm likely to bend over//
Bend over-break your back// but don't have a heart attack//
Go get some street smarts// then i'll gladly welcome back//
Jus cuz you can spit// dont mean that its got meaning//
Have you thizz for weeks straight// bought a jar and kept on thenin?//
Now I've seen kids spittin// thinkin they're the "shiznit"//
But they all jus snitches// little richie bitch kids//
These foo's aint gifted// they need to grow up wit da quickness//
R2's a prime example// of someone who can spit//
And post up on a forum// But that hasn't been through shit//
Now i can relate// to most the problems of life//
Whether it be lost ones// or contemplating wit a knife//
But look at R2// this nigga makes me laugh//
All i need is my fist// go ahead an use yer gatt--
Robzombie man// what are you thinkin'
my flows smells fresh // your flows stinkin'
i saw ya girlfriend // man shes mingin'
dude you are a moron // suck so much dick ya got a sore-tongue
talkin about the knives and the shanks // ill knock you down a few ranks
your the type of dick who would attempt to rob banks
and then get caught // and sent to the station
i hope you go jail // but you will probs get probation
you are the worst rapper in the nation
im the lyrical rastaman // with a masterplan
smoking a blunt // on the way to amsterdamm
your just a wannabe-emcee // whos never gonna be
where you wanna be // im spittin this freestyle for freeeee












