Shut the f*ck Up lyrics

[Verse 1]
I guess I expected this, partially detected this
You boutta get cut up, frog b*tches get dissected b*tch
First off, I respect your diss…you did all your digging first
And you tried hardest and still failed when that didn’t work
You the type of b*tch to try to son a b*tch who know you barren
Type of b*tch to lie about the type of sh*t that’s so apparent
Type of b*tch to say she good when all her flows be incoherent
Type of b*tch to make me push her to an edge that she know is hairless
Talking loud on Twitter, claiming that you that b*tch
Flaw as f*ck in public, a world wide catfish
Listen this ain’t beef nor a match b*tch
Not a f*cking finger laid, just a f*cking track ripped
And don't confuse yourself, you not in my lane
My whole style is really f*cking out of your range
I could rap circles round your entire set list
Body your life and leave that sh*t unaffected
See you thought that the Twitter sh*t was just for the blogs
Thought you wouldn’t get your whole head cut the f*ck off
Thought I’d have second thoughts about hitting you off
And when I see you, all I wanna do is stomp on your jaw
You’re an Internet goon, a Twitter personality
A b*tch who’s eggplant weaves and pus*y are catastrophes
In the industry they talking bout you, ask Trevor Jeradeau
When he tried to sign me he said Interscope was scared for you
“They about to catch a brick, Azealia ain’t making sh*t..”
How much Twitter beef does it take to wanna make you get
Into the studio and come up with a different flow
Stop tryna recreate 212 cause its the only sh*t you know
Listen, you ain’t f*cking with me lyrically
I just rule your b*tch ass like this motherf*cking tyranny
I guess I should’ve thought before I wrote a twenty minute roast
And put my head into the flow, like yours in studio
Weak b*tch, Interscope be paying you to sleep
Meanwhile I’m the one b*tch they praying you could beat
And to be honest, well, I really wanted to like you
But you ugly and you lame and your flows all recycled
And your broke ass was a broke b*tch since a broke b*tch was a broke b*tch
And I know some girls who knew you in like '06
And they all say you was wild gay and wild lame and considering
You f*cked anything, b*tch you f*cking anything
I don’t have time for b*tches who be f*cking anything
And they said you was never liked, and tryna buy love
And to my surprise, well... that didn’t surprise us
Remember at the spotted pig? You was tryna stunt and floss
And I was like, this b*tch tryna pay me to get broken off
Tell me why you really mad, sent a text the next day
Hold up wait what kinda pus*y sh*t is that?
b*tches wish they could beat me, look at me, I just drop a ho
And if I’m feeling froggy, I jump em like they Geronimo
b*tch I’m on my level you looking like you just dropped a flow
My flow so consistent you in and out like a stop and go
Tell her she ain’t f*cking with me, b*tch you ain’t f*cking with me
I got that fire flow, my tonsils probably f*cking crispy
You weak and you done and were previously sonned
By a b*tch that’s too young
And normally, I’m anti-suicide
But you can’t beat me, it’s your choice
Do or die
You weak b*tch