08 – Sick
(Back up right now... Back up... Back up right now...) / Sick of shitty DJs that mix with no decks. I'm spitting at you as my middle fingers protest. If I'm really pissed you won't finish yo set. I'll break a bottle, hop on stage and start slitting yo necks. Sick of grotesque hoes with silicone breasts bulging out they silly clothes when they stripping on Ecs. Stereotypical rappers get me so vexed. They think their flow's fresh cause they gripping those techs. Machos acting bold though they getting no sex. Your dick can't grow bigger with a silver rolex. Boasting jiggalos with they big, exposed pecs. When you go home, we know that you're your bitches' home pets. Sick of impatient kids, you're souless. Quit skipping through my tracks and quit clicking on next. You make me fucking sick bitch, and bitter no less... / (Back up right now... Back up... Back up right now...) / You know what ? (What's up ?) You make me wanna throw up !
Go away ! (Why ?) Cause I've had a bad day ! / I ain't talking junk... ain't trying to warn you with a stunt. I'm the type to drive around with traffic wardens in my trunk. Awkward when I'm drunk - wizzing on your wall for fricking fun. I'll pistol-whip a waiter when I walk in with a gun ! (Ha!) I go liquor-shopping, hit the store with a lit blunt and walk out without paying shit. I steal my forties when I want. I walk passed the mortuary : Good morning everyone ! Then punch a weaping widow : Quit acting morbid, silly cunt ! I GO to your corny show, SLAP the shawties in the front, SHIT on your backstage floor, you boring little punk. I've had an awful week dog, a long and shitty month. I really wanna pile all your fucking corpses in the dump, dig up your caskets, fill your coffins with my spunk... / (Back up right now... Back up... Back up right now...) / Wipe that silly grin off. I'll piss on your face, treat you like Ronald Poppo and rip off your traits. You bitch talk - You've got a big jaw to break... I'll rip your tongue out so you ain't got shit more to say. Rip your skin off ‘til your bitch calls the jake, just because you listen to Rick Ross and Drake... Just playing... It's just that I'm pissed off today. I wanna rip your limbs off, make a jigsaw display. I'm crazy - Got a lot of shit on my plate. You make me feel nauseated and sick all the way. You know what ? .... (What's up ?) You know what ? (What's up ?) You make me wanna throw up / You know what ? (What's up ?) You make me wanna throw up ! Go away ! (Why ?) Cause I've had a bad day ! /