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free meal - funk volume lyrics

horsesh-t gang is amateurs.
for real, like from a real artist’s perspective they are f-cking amateurs.
they have no idea what they’re doing.
they just rap fast and think it’s dope.
you’re now about to feel the wrath of hopsin, dizzy wright, and benton.
your careers was ended the moment i was mentioned.
this rap sh-t is my religion.
sorry crooked i, but sending horsesh-t in to diss up wasn’t a wise decision.
it’s a setback for sure, not only on they weak careers, but it’s a setback on yours.
so step back, endure the rain, the suffer and pain.
you want a problem?
here’s a deathmatch, it’s war.
f-ck horsesh-t gang they straight lame, all four suck.
i put $500k on this battle, you put yours up?
you poor b-ms couldn’t afford a sweater from nordstrom’s.
after this sh-t is finished. n-gg-s better reward us.
my girl’s ‘gram has more likes than yours does.
how does it feel to have never been on a tour bus?
it’s probably similar to alcohol on a sore cut.
you n-gg-s suck.
in other words, n-gg-s, you’re f-cked.
you really thought we wouldn’t stop you?
please…
f-ck you mean?
we’ll puncture you and watch you bleed.
see, i patrol the game daily like the cops do streets.
i’m too beast, n-gg-s, will we will rock you: queen.
for real, it’s like your buzz is invisible, dang.
you don’t even have residual game from your predictable lane.
your song sucks, so you ain’t getting no fame.
n-body even knows you n-gg-s’ individual names.
y’all done stepped in some horse sh-t.
i’ll turn you horseshoe n-gg-s to corpses.
for a dollar and a snack, i bet they blow a horse d-ck.
i ain’t want to murk them, but f-ck it, you n-gg-s pushed me.
i’d let you f-ck my wife, but i’m sorry, she don’t like p-ssy.
i’m bending corners, let you broke n-gg-s ride along.
what a bunch of f-cking gangsters, they can’t afford a firearm.
i know you need guap; take a moment to breathe, doc.
bet they do the drive-by on a bike with a slingshot.
y’all basic, looking like you need bathing.
call me, cause my grandmama’s got room in the bas-m-nt.
you could never sh-t on me, you should lend your b-tch me me.
we stock you up with canned goods and give you free publicity.
$500k, but we doing this one for charity.
stacking bread like i’m sarah lee, you should be very scared of me.
fire marshall build, you f-ggots can get extinguished.
on sway, looking like some broke r&b singers.
what, you: ron, bobby, ricky and mike?
must be smoking that hard and sniffing that white.
see this rap sh-t ain’t working, you n-gg-s should get a f-cking job.
nah seriously, n-gg-s get a f-cking job.
i feel bad for any man that can’t afford a meal.
tell mike trampe to learn how to count a half a mil’.
“what about that half a million though?”
“ah listen man, i’m already workin’ on it, i got about 225 right now, sway, so we can come up with the other 225, we’re ready to go”.
houston to horsesh-t, come back down to earth.
ain’t you n-gg-s in your 40s like this rapping gon’ work?
aye your b-tch said she tired of hearing them lame rap dreams.
pay a bill, n-gg-, sh-t is not happening.
d-mn, homie.
in high school you was the man, homie.
f-ck happened to you?
b-tch i’m back in the booth and i’m spittin’ it for the homeless.
serial killer, i murder all my opponents.
let me break it down, don’t think you n-gg-s gon’ make it.
you got a better chance at gettin’ hit by a sp-ceship.
but i’ma pray for ’em, dear lord, please bless the b-m n-gg-s.
i know they’re starvin’, please help ’em out with a lunch, would you?
drop ’em all, linoleum, who g-ssed ’em like petroleum?
get murked by me, dizz and that n-gg- from nickelodeon.
dame said he hirin’, we need some custodians.
i bet your label f-ck you in the -ss with no petroleum.
mr. benton, i’ll abort you lames.
can somebody spare some change for the horseshoe g.a.n.g.?
b-tch…
look man, i didn’t wanna do it to y’all n-gg-s, man.
i liked y’all n-gg-s, you know what i’m sayin’?
but godd-mn, y’all pushed us, man.
we didn’t even call your name.
we know y’all n-gg-s ain’t got money.
your godd-mn motown, philly, suit wearin’ -ss n-gg-.
old godd-mn boyz ii men lookin’ n-gg-.
mc brain, godd-mn tied shirt wearin’ -ss n-gg-.
old godd-mn r&b singer lookin’ mothaf-ckas.
man, aye f-ck this sh-t, dizzy.
you n-gg-s done f-cked up.
i’ma light the dizzy, og.
i’ma let my lil’ n-gg- get you.
bad career move, n-gg-.
i ain’t even wastin’ no time, we got canned goods, n-gg-.
we gon’ help feed y’all n-gg-s.
let’s go!
so you the f-ck n-gg-s that want it first.
my stomach hurts so somebody finna get sh-tted on.
my vision long and i coulda seen this from a mile away.
you n-gg-s is endin’ your careers, we comin’ up out the gate.
now you can’t escape, the nerve of this man.
i’m el chapo sendin’ these donald trumps their surgery plans.
emergency land.
you can tell we the current demand.
y’all ain’t hungry, you b-tches thirsty, here’s a courtesy can.
you n-gg-s obviously not hungry enough, it’s tough to see it.
so how can you believe a crooked eye certainly can?
yo f-ck a horsesh-t gang., this a burglary.
we studied n-gg-s thoroughly and i promise y’all won’t make it this far.
let me purge, you p-ssy n-gg-s shoulda just stayed in the car.
i’m breakin’ laws, jaws ’til faces get taken apart.
i’m appalled, you f-ckboys done stepped out of your league.
y’all ain’t makin’ no moves so it’s awkward you wanna battle with speed.
now what the game need? not another offbrand shady group.
half a mil’? y’all label got you out here eatin’ baby food.
f-ck it, now i’m your necks, y’all borin’ so you’re formin’.
formulatin’ checks, i heard the diss, but ain’t n-body take the bet.
we crowded around the mic, playin’ games with your life.
all four of y’all sound alike, we blowin’ up like dynamite.
n-gg- that’s a high explosion.
we gettin’ booked for the same shows that y’all was tryna open.
homie knowin’ that i’m flowin’.
stop it with the foolishness, middle finger up.
i’m screamin’ f-ck your group of duplicates.
i’m on my king kunta sh-t.
ready for the battle, shady n-gg- better skidaddle.
you’re in someone else’s shadow, guarantee this make ’em fragile.
cause i’m an active activist.
y’all got a platform with no fan base
no hate but how mothaf-ckin’ sad is this?
how’s this happenin’, aren’t you n-gg-s concerned?
y’all sound like every f-ckin’ fast rapper that i’ve ever heard.
but i ain’t mad at all, i checked out y’all catalog.
haters of the trap music but signed a deal with a trap involved.
i’m just a n-gg- that tatted over his battle scars.
you n-gg-s fallin’ off so you don’t got no room to call n-body soft.
you not the coldest.
you tight, but sh-t, my tight is claustrophobic.
you don’t know it, ’til the side effects show you can’t control it.
now it’s in the open, all this for promotion.
y’all elevator goin’ down and everybody knows it.
according to the lie detect, who gon’ sign the check?
y’all better hit the streets.
ask your label and they look at y’all n-gg-s in disbelief.
y’all better stick to kissin’ feet ‘fore i crack your grill.
i hate a b-tch n-gg- that’ll settle for a happy meal.
have your b-tch attracted to the daddy skills.
p-ss it on but i crashed into ’em with the caddy steel.
f-ck these n-gg-s.
we already won, onto the next round.
y’all stagnant, already paralized from the neck down.
tryna battle us with the tech style.
why try n-gg-? bodied by the high n-gg-.
didn’t know i was battlin’ the do or die n-gg-s.
f-ck horsesh-t g.a.n.g. in 20-15, n-gg-.
yeah y’all buried alive already, f-ck y’all.
sleep in your casket tonight, n-gg-.
don’t step out of your league no more, n-gg-.
get some fans before you try to get in a rap battle, f-ckboy.
fv 20-15, n-gg-

- funk volume lyrics

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