[Intro: Trife Da God]
Yeah, Faggot ass niggas,
Trife Dez, You know who it is man,
Word up, It's war nigga,
Theodore, T.M.F, Criminal Grind,
Fuckin with the big boys now homie,
You hear me, Come on,
[Chorus: Trife Da God]
Uhh, Wash the words out your mouth when you speak to me cousin,
Cause yall pussy, And a lot of yall will beef for nothin,
Cause when them heat starts bustin yall doin the least frontin,
What's the deal playboy, Why you beef for nothin,
Can't understand, Thought you was my man, All of a sudden,
You sabotagin my name, Stop beef for nothin,
What you mad at the fact cause in the streets you aint bustin,
Well I'ma finish what you started, Now we beefin for somethin.
[Trife Da God]
Ayo that's word to everything I love and own,
I put that on my seed, My Pop's grey mustache, And on my Mother's bones,
Niggas done started some shit, And I'm appalled,
Cause a few months ago, You was just ridin my balls,
Sayin how you wanna vibe and colab on a song,
But silly me, I should have known you was mad all along,
Cause yous a sanke from the gate, Yall niggas is spuing hate,
While I was on tour eatin, Yall niggas was loosin weight,
Plus I heard you was movin with Jake, (Faggot)
Snitchin on real gangstas from your hood, That was a foolish mistake,
Yous a disgrace, A flunky, A hip hop monkey,
Swingin from dicks with mad cum on your lips, Nigga you lunch meat,
I'm a belligerent lyrists, Flows is unmatchable,
Cryin like a bitch cause Trife aint do a track with you,
Tryna take me out the comfort zone, But if you want the thrown,
Take it in blood, If not, Leave me the fuck alone.
[Chorus]
[Trife Da God]
Ayo you gotta be a bird for lettin that bitch play you,
Now you in the mirror cleanin your wounds with witch hazel,
I spit fatal, They morn Clark Gable,
Trife Da God the first rapper to sign to Stark's label,
And I'm back with a vengeance with a glorified entrance,
Theodore-The Roosevelt’s, We some certified henchmen,
This is just another one of your ploys, Your getting desperate,
Just a weak diss marketin sceme, To pump your record,
And no, I don't respect it, You called me out on some next shit,
Cause if you had a problem you should of came and addressed it,
Cause real niggas do real things, You know the motto,
That's why you ran and played that bullshit song for hollow,
Knowin he was gonna send me the kite, You fuckin right,
Now I gotta end your little career, And crush your mic,
Cause if we clash heads, Better believe it's nothin nice,
Either get to scrappin, Let's make it happen, I'm bustin pipes.
[Chorus]
[Outro: Trife Da God]
Yeah, You know how we do it man,
Veteran on this mic piece,
Knowhatimsayin you talkin I aint wanna do a song with you and all of that man,
Your song was fuckin wack G,
You talk about how much weed you smoke and all that high spaced out shit,
Nigga I don't even smoke weed nigga,
Come right or don't come at all man,
Straight up, Clash heads you see me face to face,
I wanna hear all that, "Na it wasn't even like that son" and all that and all that,
Na man, Keep my name out your fuckin mouth for real G,
Word up, We write our own songs nigga,
What the fuck you talkin bout,
Real shit nigga, Been had hits nigga,
Hits when you was runnin around rockin the mothafuckin Wu Wear hats and all that shit man,
Stop frontin man, Aint even built like that,
You can't sound up north nigga,
What, Criminal grind nigga S.C.G,
Straight up, Stapleton nigga,
You know how we pump, Faggot,
You had to go to court too nigga,
Takin the back streets nigga, I never seen you on broad.