[Swerve]

Welcome to your funeral bud, here you wane and decline,
So when I leave Pinot Grij in oak….trust I’m not aging and flavoring wine
Your girl loves my pipe, you cant do the job, you passive homo,
When its in her jaws, she clawing my balls till they look like the Raptors logo.
Did swag and flow against Orc, now punches leave you faded as well,
I kill in the ring, so you may be zack morris, but you won’t be saved by the bell.
Read that verse and boy you’ve fallen off, no longer living the dream,
You’ve become such a faint pulse...your career should be pronounced dead at the scene
And when you do try to fuck, you don’t slay…you sure aint killin em,
Girls go through your legs without hitting anything…they feel like Marcus Williams.