I've got a 1000 plus units hanging off my belt   You've got a 1000 plus vibrators up on your shelf   Feel special little faggot that I even dropped this   Cause you ain't getting one single cent or profit   I'm your worse nightmare   The devil in the flesh   This be a fight to the finish   a battle to the death   Once again I'm triumphant while you're living in a dream   And I'd have to bring you glasses to see me   You wanna be me   I know that you're hurting   And you won't live forever cause your death is certain   And while I'm laying back at home   Fucking the finest of bitches   You're busy sucking dick off for some wrestling tickets   You wanna talk hip hop and punchlines   Well ask your boy about a punch bitch because he caught mine   That wasn't no cheap shot   We were face to face   So tell me bitch, how the fuck does my fist taste?   And while you sit at home scared under covers   I'm outside of your house jacking off to pictures of your mother   And then I'll switch and jack off to my own   Yo, my mom might be dead   But you still suck on the microphone      [CHORUS X2]   Everybody wanna hate what they didn't create,   But I ain't going nowhere because I'm here to stay   I'm here to stay   I'ma keep it popping   Keep the records dropping   Keep them haters watching      You're a clone and a drone, all alone   Calling sex lines on the cell phone   Cause you can't get your own   And you're wife left you cause of lack of genitalia   You're wife left you cause you're nothing but a failure [oh!]   And I really don't care what you faggots say   I'll put you out like a cigarette in the ashtray   And what's this about a order trying to stop me, shit!   I'll cut yall up with this lyrical autopsy   Gut you out, weigh your organs on a scale   You can't stop the rise   All you haters fail   All you punk mother fuckers   You will never stop me cause yall are straight bitches   My philosophy is misogyny   I come from the land of the South-West   Getting dirty in the desert smoking all the finest sess   While you bitches be hating trying to place bets   On who will take me out   I'm glad to know I'm in your breath      [CHORUS X2]   Everybody wanna hate what they didn't create,   But I ain't going nowhere because I'm here to stay   I'm here to stay   I'ma keep it popping   Keep the records dropping   Keep them haters watching      All you myspace rappers please put down the mic   And do something with your lives instead of wasting my time   And keep spreading hate cause it's free promotion   And if I suck so bad then what the fuck is the big commotion!?   I move units across the ocean   While you new school killas on the myspace promoting   And when did horrorcore become acceptable to Christians?   I thought the Bible said plainly no killing?   You fucking hypocrites   Get your Bibles write your verses   Yall some fake mother fuckers   The wicked shit ain't for the churches   There ain't no god that condones any violence   So put down the mic   And be good with the silence   I'm dropping verses that be so hot   They make the devil get down on his knees and wanna suck my cock   And some of the things I say may leave you shocked   So in simple don't listen try that as a thought bitches         Oh no here I go with another diss track   But i won't drop names cause their shit is that whack   I i stay intact with the paper while you concentrate on beef   And you wonder why your records broken slain on the concrete   You couldn't sell a record to a retard with millions   I burn your rhymes up like the twin tower buildings   I got legends on my label   You're an unestablished artist   talking big about connects when your their favorite artist money target   Little bitch, Little bitch that be me   But this little bitch here is taking over your scene   Everywhere that you go   I know you're seeing my face   How does it feel to be no one   That you're a straight disgrace   Don't waste no time   And don't spit no rhymes   I'd rather kill myself then hear you on the mic   That's right, I said it   And I hope my words embedded in your mind before I call AL queda have your ass beheaded, were sitting here, talking lyrical supremacy the don perrion of the game you the hennessey   Take a step down   Let a real man spit   I'm the leader of this new breed of wicked shit   I built a single empire in about three years   While you're playing with fire   And burning down all your bridges      Take notice and respect to my dialect   I keep it all in check while you're still placing bets   I cut cheques to my artists   While you're checking out the telly got degrees in street hustle while your still on your GED   Graduate then talk to me   Until then imitation for you is the only key   So keep buying, keep writing to increase your sales   and you can sit and serve in heaven      While im raining down in hell   I dwell in an another underground   Fuck a backpack   I prefer another brutal sound   A wickedness brought up by suicidalist   The dawn of this mother fucking South-West wicked shit      I never needed anybody in this rap game   No radios, be jamming this killer everyday   But you used up like an old meth pipe   And with hair like that i should call you a Frisco dyke   On the mic I drop bombs causing harm   While you're masturbating and fantasise about my songs   I'll smoke you out like a bong   Weak bitch don't trip   When I exhale the smoke your career ends quick   I pack clipz full of lyrical slugs   They penetrate and deform your face worse than it ever was,   Get Proactive you drug addict bitch   And I'm not from city of Compton   But I still drop hits   Underground 24 years old   Making money off this music while your style runs cold   Let me unfold, project and then manifest   While you punch every bar cause you ran outta breath   Don't step to me   No disrespecting me   I'll do you like cube did in no Vaseline   Straight fucking the game with my soulless dick   You can call me SickTanicK   I fiend for the wicked shit