Evil Live lyrics

Lil b*tch I got your address, I found that sh*t out
I'll knock every last f*cking tooth out of your mouth
I'm telling you right now dog, invest in dentures
Cause every punch connect, like the X-box sensor
I'll snap your neck back, like a Pez dispenser
Cause every punch Kinect like the X-box sensor
I'll snap your neck back, Pez dispenser
It's A_Stackzzz, you know that I stay strapped, seatbelt on, yeah we buckle it up
And if you really talking tough we can knuckle it
I got pipebombs and blackjacks in the back of my car
Plus I'm pretty f*cking crazy, I've been acting bizarre
I'll rip your face off like I was doing some bathsalts
Sweet your feet, knock your nappy hair to the asphalt
Call up your convoy of terrorists with PTSD, tell em to see or meet me in VC, strap em up with a piece each, I'll lay there while they shoot, they still won't beat me
I got bars for days homie I'm insane, I'm just freestyling right now
Imagine if I wrote 'im some sh*t
I'd be smoking this b*tch like I was tokin' a spliff
Open the spliff I swear to God it ain't doper than this
Hell no I'm not spiritual I've done a deal with the devil
But you still can't see me, on a lyrical level
All your rhymes are elementary I heard that sh*t at the nursery
b*tch was right, this is a mismatch, why is he versing me
Out of all the oak rappers I swear to God Juwan's the worst emcee
So many whack rappers at oak and they all want Austin
Bet you start running from the bomb like a marathon in Boston
I'll leave you leaking, blood dripping out your nose broke
Your rhyme's suck, delivery's whack plus you got no flow
Plus when he raps he uses bars recycled
Call up the goons to knock you out quicker than NyQuil
You're full of sh*t, I'm spitting truth when I write though
Mercury, carbon, nitrogen dioxide in my freezer for anyone
Bring a 9 to my house, I'll show up at yours with a minigun
Kick in the door, hit you with a 4 by 4
b*tches kick ya to the floor, while I'm spitting on that whore
I just murdered your family and called your mother a sl*t
And all this pus*y faggot could do was run for cover and duck
If this beef stays on tracks I swear to God he'll come up short
So let's get physical like we trying out for a sport
So diss me back it'll be a sissy act, I swear to God oh this b*tch'll get smacked
I'll be kicking this little b*tch like I'm playing some soccer
See me in the f*cking hundred wing, that's where my f*cking locker is, which you don't really want it with me
Keep taking a f*cking week to write some weak ass sh*t