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HFK vs 3rdPerson
by
King of the Dot
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Lyrics
So he calls himself Happy Face, so check it I will f**king wind your scalp, one side around 'Til your jugular pipe valve is touching ya eyebrows And you need a surgeon with a crowbar shoved inside ya mouth Just to turn that frown back upside down But at least that way, when he's beaten and rid of Yo, you'll have no problem keeping your chin up 'cause your lame with ya 'ligibles This is what Immortal Technique would look like if he hit his head and became a vegetable 'Cause I'm sicker when I rap flows Your sh*t couldn't be cutting edge if you had scissors in your a**hole Yo check it, and your wallеt will never get thе green Crying in the shower is the only time you're balling (bawling) fresh and clean I rip you out of the spot No doubt that I'm hot I'm knocking out this jock Best believe, my mouth, it just rocks Every rhythm I'm on I'm spitting it strong I'm ripping him apart Can't step to me, I disregard his b*t*ha** bars You can't step up in the battle 'cause I spit it mathematical When you rap, you black and blue, b*t*h In rap, I'm the first Persian But I think this bird's chirpin' 'Cause uh, what kinda nerd virgin is called '3rdPerson' He's a true fairy, and I know I'm a known j*rk But after the battle, you better finish my homework I doubt this c**t blasts gats But f**k that crap He makes enough bad tracks And looks like a young Jack Black Probably pimps a sh*tload of guys at a gay hotel Probably pimps a sh*tload of girls, on AOL I look at you and tell you gon' die punk And he's like, "I know I suck, I'm a four eyed f**k" You think this fag is a murderer In London, him and his boy sit down and talk about whose gla**es are nerdier This kid's got the smallest d**k A ridiculous bowl of sh*t Who likes to sit down and talk about religion and politics I'll have your house surrounded by a gang of Haitians And on Facebook, he added the wack rapper application Change your last name to O'Donnel, you're a joke like Rosie But don't worry, one day you'll be as dope as OZ This loser's a f**king virgin, he's lonely and desperate And you're so dumb and stupid, it's like your dome gets no reception So yo, a question What does pu**y have in common with two plus two? If you ask him about either, he'll say, "I don't get it" Check it, with your bovine thickness It's motherf**kers like you that keep sex phone lines in business And what's more disgusting than a fat boy embarra**ed of his body You're like a parody copy of George Costanza, but you're more hairy and stocky He tried to hang himself 'cause his waist is really round But he's so f**king heavy, he just weighed the ceiling down Every word you rhyme I will use to fry you alive You might be as well by tying a noose, 'cause anything you string together is f**king suicide I'll rip you in half You don't wanna step to the lyrical rap You're a f**king joke I cut ya throat I bust a flow Then I'll knock you out the park No doubt my bars are out my mouth is hard I hit him hard in the head, his whole style is stolen He probably watches Dharma & Greg and likes to blast Michael Bolton I rip this dude for practice Just to prove his wackness And with gla**es that thick, you should do my taxes Gay clubs, this fool is there Makeup, this dude will wear His mom's lunch are prunes and pears With sprinkles of my pubic hair I heard his songs, they're gay as f**k and they're bad tunes And in high school, he probably ate his lunch in the bathroom I'm ripping this boy This kid gets destroyed And he has chilling with toys When he's with Siegfried and Roy F**k US and their wild economy This gay f**king guy likes sodomy But when they took away his computer, he's like "Nooo! My child p***ography!" Aye yo, lay low It's not ya day, bro 'cause girls treat your d**k like drugs, they just say no You think his f**king track's a banger I invade your city like Alexander But you should get a job to be that faggot Chandler And Adam Sandler's baggage handler This guy is desperate to get some applause and merit But this crowd wouldn't accept you if Facebook friend requested So check it, I rip you out the park No doubt my bars is strong and hard You can't step to me, f**k it, I get your esophagus charred Because I spit mad flames I don't need to aggravate this wack fake But I slash your face with gats and blades And just jet from the scene Check it, I'm the best of MCs My complexity cut you from ya head to ya knees And leave you riddled with blood like machetes in trees F**k it, slurring my words, but check it Yo, you'll never get props for your verbals and words Only time this guy is a crowd pleaser is when he's in a circle j*rk So yo, I'm back up in it Ready to smack this faggot dipsh*t My whole style is cataclysmic F**k it, your b*t*ha**edness is just a gimmick He thinks he's a rebel, goes around saying I'm scary But the only hard time he spent is at the library You're not so ill You got to chill Stop popping pills To stay home and watch The Hills and Doctor Phil You think his chips stacking? He was on the show Intervention where his family begged him to quit rapping Now he's angry, he's gonna rip my pictures 'cause he's feeling hard He's just angry I didn't tip his sister at the t**ty bar Your mom should die 'cause God hates her And you like to dress up like Darth Vader and watch Frasier I'm gonna f**king find this guy and kill 'Cause he couldn't be real (B-Real) if he was the guy from Cypress Hill He likes to open his crack for a rod He gets attacked and then robbed He used to work at the sperm bank and got fired 'cause he drank on the job
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