lil jing disstrack - lil frank lyrics
[intro – instrumental]
[verse 1]
you think that you can pull girls who are juniors
your forehead is so big looks like a tumor
people said you can rap, must be a rumor
think you can roast me, boy that is just humor
ain’t got no raris or lambos, just scooters
ain’t got more clout than me, got a lot fewer
go exercise and get off your computer
2.0 gpa, must get a tutor
[verse 2]
you’re a disgrace to the chinese
you wear them sketchers not nike
you suck at rapping that’s high-key
and your wrist ain’t even icy
you are so goofy especially
you wear fake polo can’t disagree
you’ll catch the fist, got the tendency
tryna get clout? boy just mention me
[verse 3]
boy take your scrawny -ss to planet fitness
you raps are so bad, they feel like an illness
“oh please don’t drop this!” you asked for forgiveness
sean kenny asked to fight, you were scared sh-tless
still play roblox, but that’s none of my business
got your -ss beat, you’re not gon’ have a witness
you still wish for talent every single christmas
after this diss track, you’re gon’ have a b-tch fit
[verse 4]
stuck in a locker and you ripped your pants
your hair is so f-cked up – looks just like grant’s
can’t write your own lyrics, that’s too advanced
bootleg ricegum, who can’t rap, and is trans
go back to the studio and work on your flow
work on your flow, boy you need a lot more
need a lot more, always say you got hoes
say you got hoes, but where are they at tho?
[verse 5]
tell my why you look like rich chigga’s b-tch
all of this talk, man i’m tired of it
keep talking sh-t, i’ll go pull out the stick
you didn’t want this diss track, boy get off my d-ck
your arms so skinny, they look like some twigs
say you get b-tches, but never got one chick
always tryna fight someone, but you’re a b-tch
don’t worry, this l will be over quick
[bridge]
why did you have p-rn in your camera roll?
tried to ignore it, you just tried to scroll
you thought that that sh-t would just go untold
so g-y, how many times have you been boned?
tell my why you are always h-lla fruity
so fruity, might as well be called a fruit tree
like sommer ray, all your raps are just booty
stop hiding, just admit that you have a coochie
violin and piano, yeah that is your duty
songs are so trash, so much worse than lil uzi
why you still listenin’ to bad and boujee?
stop tryna diss track, and go eat some sushi
[verse 6]
you get bossed around by your sister, mei mei
you asked a guy to hoco, that’s just g-y
not anorexic you say – how much do you even weigh?
your “polos” not worth a lot, that sh-ts fake
your so called b-tches; so flat, got no cake
please stop the rapping, just for your own sake
dissin’ me, yeah that was your first mistake
[outro]
you’re always so salty, just like an ocean
who are you? oh, you’re that lil boy named lotion
next time be careful to who you’re approaching
say one more thing, all your bones will be broken
(brahhhhh x3)
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