Bullets
Let me define in one line why against you I’m fighting in front line
Hold on, I’m on the phone line, there’s no need to whine
You’re a dictator, people will discover it sooner or later
Who’s the real race hater, maybe you’re too dumb, you need a translator,
You’re the one who deserves a smack for his intelligence lack (Arghhhhhhhhh !!!)
Playing on a whack track as if you were black, holla back !
White for a half, writing on Dave May’s behalf,
Man you’re a faggot, all you want is a big maggot,
You need to be shot for your deloyal plot,
Trying to rally the black community for this load of insanity,
Maybe for you to hate it’s too late, spread you fake mic rate,
Whatever this won’t increase your album sale, for you began an unlucky trail,
You’re just a plain sinner, who would call you a winner
You’re just so unprofessionnal, so obsessional, and just a beginner,
We all laugh at the Bawston bitch, who will never be rich
To another topic you need to switch, you act like a plain snitch,
Denonciator, what a whack score, you’re such a bore, thinking you’re hardcore,
People like you we abhore, while Shady we adore,
you don’t belong to the rap decor, close the door
You’d better open a clothing store, cuz we already won the war.
We are 9 million, a crowd of zillion, against us you’re definitly done
This is your end run, everybody is making fun of you, take the gun,
Your reference to Malcom X is an easy equation, a regression of y on x,
It only reflects your anti white projects, I’ll break your necks,
You can’t deny it : Shady is universal, and nothing explains against him your reversal,
Of course The Source should show remorse and yea the magazine is not the only hip hop force,
Constructive projects you should endorse, that would increase you sales force
But your vendetta looks like an operetta
Stop jumping up and down, you’re just a clown, I’ll bring you down
Man, you’re so weak, soon you’ll die down ,
You make me feel disgusted, you’ll get busted,
To the black community you’re no pillar, you look like a bee killer,
Or a liquor distiller, nothing iller, you ain’t no serial killer
I’ll send you bullets and rockets, go hide your bracelets and amulets
No need to hide your secrets, swallow your last chicken nuggets,
Man, spread your SOS calls, you ain’t no balls
On you I pull the trigger before you call Em a wigger,
You’re the one who told the Strangla to use the N Word
You fucking nerd, ain’t that absurd, yea, but it occured,
The Strangla is white, allright ? On Blacks to hate wasn’t this an invite ?
The beef against Em you did ignite, and on an apology you should conclude
What you started so rude, dude, your fucking fued,
Be real, you’re a bad thief, you steal, in front of Shady you should kneel.
While trying to rhyme you fell on the banana peel
This beef looks surreal, you rage you’re unable to conceal,
Of Benzino, everybody’s getting tired, you’re so uninspired,
As a rapper you need to get fired, it is high time you’d get retired.
Can you feel the chill wind of defeat , take a chill pill
End your stress, go back to your illegal business
There is nobody you can impress, not even in the press.