[talking]
No need for words, let's go!

Now what's this friend shit? Homie's? Dawg's?
What's this nickname shit? Jacks? Frogs?
Nah, so I put up fourty-eight,
Not to make a point, but to set this shorty straight.
This the E-N-D of E-N-G, not Mister G,
No pictures see, now you can try and picture me.
Navee laughin' girl, she wan' smack you in the face,
Tammy's now round here, so crack is in the place.
This aint grade 11 G-man, nah this aint English,
Run ya mouth all ya want, time you, now how long has it been bitch?
Whoops, please excuse my language's,
But my girls'll leave ya leakin' and covered in bandages.
Not even God himself could imagine this,
Leave people tweakin' out and fuckin' with brain hemorrhages.
Who gon' back ya up? Who the fuck gon' diss me?
Talkin' all ya lie's like “how QE love me and miss me”,

[Chorus]
Punk no, bitch please,
Fuck hoe's, snitch leave.
Now we all wonderin' what the fuck this gay done,
And we all know you was a problem ever since day one.
Now I no Undertaker, not what the town fear,
But friends? For you? Nah, not round here.
And - gon' take er' out wherever this bitch meet,
Fuckin' with KP, put you down 6 feet.

Shit talker? Shit starter? You end up in the back of the hearse,
You must be the last of the worst, a crack in my verse,
Attackin' it first, facts like buzzerk , last of the cursed,
Ya back'll just burst, and even I knew you was a problem ever since the back of Burke's.
Now she cryin' for some friends, but aint nobody heard her,
And what KP puttin' up, like third degree murder, ya dig?.
Dig up a hole, mufucka's this aint no gimmicks,
Push the limits, torch her body and throw her bones in it.
Now I aint the hater type, and aint nobody tauntin' ha,
Friends? Nah we aint Ross, Chandler and Monica.
Slim and tall, shit she gon' tall,
We make the heat pop and top like Sean Paul,
You may not want to, but you gon' hear it
And we know you love farm boys like John Jarrett.
Girls never fealt you, and still guys figure,
Just remember this the kinda shit you wan' put on ya iRiver, haha

[Chorus]
Punk no, bitch please,
Fuck hoe's, snitch leave.
Now we all wonderin' what the fuck this gay done,
And we all know you was a problem ever since day one.
Now I no Undertaker, not what the town fear,
But friends? For you? Nah, not round here.
And - gon' take er' out wherever this bitch meet,
Fuckin' with KP, put you down 6 feet.

Now this my last sixteen, now you know what my sis mean,
Beef poppin' off guess this what a diss mean, ya dig me?
My flow exquisite, girl it'd go miles,
And a! You know you cool when you jack another's profile, (yeah right!)
You need to speed outta here like grab some Sonic Tonic,
Don't think we don't know about basketball season, AT you be on it chronic,
All these fakes things, we all know you try and con it,
Hell we can still read every move she make like a comic.
The ego damaged, but hell the stress is greater,
You just might be able to breathe, with a respirator.
Now why I gotta make up these, shake up these,
Straight up G's, family bedside like “wake up please”,
Like Miss Lau I'ma take up these,
And we rather blaze you up, before we blaze up tree's,
No way you can drop me, no way you can hole my rich,
And fact still remains that you stole my diss, ahha!

[Chorus]
Punk no, bitch please,
Fuck hoe's, snitch leave.
Now we all wonderin' what the fuck this gay done,
And we all know you was a problem ever since day one.
Now I no Undertaker, not what the town fear,
But friends? For you? Nah, not round here.
And - gon' take er' out wherever this bitch meet,
Fuckin' with KP, put you down 6 feet.

[talking]
Hahah...oh God, whatta night, thank you, please...thank you once again, but at a more serious note, ladies and gentleman...QE
HAS JUST LEFT THE BUILDING. [madd applause]

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