What? Don't compare us to no rapper, nigga
Y'all niggas in a big house, nigga; I'm on a couch, nigga
I'm in these streets right now, y'all niggas comfy
Y'all niggas comfortable nigga; I'm starvin', I'm past hungry
EBT card on GR, nigga, that type of starvin' nigga
Ribs is touchin'...
Don't you ever compare us to y'all
Y'all niggas can never measure up at all
While y'all niggas is ballin' and ballin', we starvin'
My niggas is fed up, but not fed at all, at all
Nigga we starvin'
[Verse 1: Demetrius]
Flow tighter than Flo Rida, but Flo Rida's ballin'
They want me to rap like Waka shit, so I done lost it
You spittin' by these knock-offs, you spittin' by that soft shit
You pissin' God and Pac off, so this is why I talk shit
Y'all wanna beef, shit I'm itchin' to see
You famous rappers couldn't even fuck with a picture of me
Hope you thinking of mentioning me or even dissing a G
I'll rip your fucking limbs off and toss them shits in a sea
Look, fucking with me costs you an arm and a leg, you'll need to find Allah
That mean you need to find your Arm-Leg-Leg-Arm and your Head
Rip you apart into shreds, you thought I was just an artist
But I'm starving instead
[Verse 2: Julius]
Yo, I'm here to slay these lames, no more rappers avoided
I was appointed to diss rappers, now I'm disappointed
Making good music before Big Sean met 'Ye
Was a bad boy back when Big and Sean met, wait
When it come to that flow, I'm a big timer, I'm fresh baby
I'm fly, my crew straight set records, set the record straight
I'm up for anything, I sit here sippin' Folgers
When a war gets cold, call me the Winter Soldier
Better than y'all, spittin' bar-for-bar, you may be a boss
Yeah, better watch where you flickin' your cigar
The race is on, who be the first to diss is on your mark
I wish a famous rapper would, I wish upon a star
[Verse 3: Kenny]
Good golly, oh damn; don't get bodied, I go ham
You couldn't be close to me if you stood by me, no chance
I'll chop your hands off in front of your mother
And tell her, "Look mommy, no hands"
I'm schitz prolly, bitch try me? No ma'am
When I'm flowin', I'm a machine and I'm blowin' all of this green
I'm a pro with them grams, you could call me a program
Niggas say that they write crack and be straight wack
And I don't like that or say somethin' ill about my pack
And like a slave master, I'm a strike back
I'm stuffin' Kush in my blunt till what I am puffing's fatter
It calms me and keep me from killin' a fucking rapper
It'll leave pieces of his brain on my shirt once his skull gets shattered
Make brain particles become my answer to "What's the matter?"
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