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shyt beh fiya (ayceeonethirty diss) - ware-wolff lyrics

[intro: ware*wolff]
yo…
what the f*ck… is this sh*t?
shyt beh fiya!

[verse: ware*wolff]
“the truth’s my profession, b*tch”
not no more if f*cking ain’t
i be readyin’ up for battle fully sportin’ the war paint
you motherf*ckin’ b*tch! better vacate the premises
sh*t was immanent, i’m like a f*ckin’ arch nemesis
up in this sh*t so villainous with venomous intent to k!ll
a distant motherf*cka who don’t want his sh*t revisited
don’t want n0body know about no songs effecting “riches”
he don’t want n0body hearing ’bout no songs of raping b*tches
commencing on the attack to launch and f*ck an ac*130 up the godd*mn jet engine
smoke billowing out the windows as you crash and burn
and simmer in the blistering dеsert, a sh*thole with nothing in it (f*ggot)
used to bе sick with it, you switched quick with it
say you’re worried about keeping your wittle p*ssy b*tch image
so i put rifts in it, fake phony rapping ass
rip this sh*t up off the hinges
you the definition of wack b*tch irrelevance
hollerin’ and sh*t like your autistic relatives
i ain’t hearing nothing but a f*ckin’ mouth runnin’
stuck like a broken record ’bout how your life’s coming together
better than ever now and you a “changed” person
shoulda seen it coming when i came up in your spot
and had the whole room “dispersing” with their eyes
staring and watching me while i’m visioning sodomy
of your mama and me the whole time
what my head is like…
b*tch, you had a potential threat up in where you sleep at night (the f*ck?)
big facts but it’s getting off topic
quit pretending that you’re making it
your sh*t’s as microscopic as mine in the grand scheme of things
i’ll do you something better
“straight snap on this rap in my jacket made of skinned cats”
“black t**th, grinning full of plaque as i’m spitting crack”
get slapped in the mouth for spitting that wack sh*t
lowlife scumbag for life, you f*ggot
who this f*ckin’ stoner, wack ass, gender fluid ac
motherf*ckin’ adhd having, weed obsessed, corny, no t**th
bedroom ridden, broke ass b*tch, wigger, wannabe
yachty rapping, sc living, on some phony ass f*ggotry
to dare call me out on some godd*mn bogus sh*t?
take another hit and catch a high off your d*ld* shaped bong
eat a sack like a bag of d*cks, b*tch
you a b*tch like six times!
through the whole song, repeat and count which rhymes
seven now if you count the “b*tch” last line
but keep ’em coming, i’m gunning b*tches like columbine
this that sh*t you ain’t liking but since you roll with the lycan i’ma let you finish one last time
“you see i roll with a lycan”
“you see i roll with a lycan”
“you see i roll with a lycan”
“so ain’t no use in the fighting”
“b*tch”
[outro: ware*wolff]
eight times

- ware wolff lyrics

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