Microphone Preem Lyrics - Prhyme - Prhyme

This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine 

I'm handlin' you frauds 

These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em 

I'm bandages and gauze 

Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em 

But I'm havin' a menage 

Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game 

I'm managin' my odds 

Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short 

Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods 

Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch 

Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah 

Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit 

March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah 

You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work 

I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse 

Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson 

And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse 

I'm tryna murder the microphone 

I'm tryna murder the microphone 

If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy? 

That was part uno, this is part two though 

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This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap 

The competition fell back, niggas ask 

How much did I use to drink 

I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon 

Kinda like Pharrell's hat 

But all jokes aside like I ordered fries 

I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized 

Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life 

And Morgan Freeman was narratin' 

(Say it again) I'm 5'9", not an inch taller 

'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller 

Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs 

You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see 

Same shit, another nigga gotta die today 

My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates 

(Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state 

Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler 

We ain't like a Pagan holiday 

Rappers will, be actin' ill 

Knowing they daffodils 

I take the word "lyrical" and flip it backwards 

And that says "laciryl" 

And that's exactly how I feel 

Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal 

I'm tryna murder the microphone 

I'm tryna murder the microphone 

I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up 

(That was part uno, this is part two though) 

Photos 

Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah 

I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda 

The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of 

The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon 

(House Gang what up!) 

Other groups basic mergers 

We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further 

Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for? 

You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4 

We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint 

Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point 

Brothers for real, I can honestly say 

If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin' 

Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin' 

Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison 

(Come on, crook, you wildin' again) 

Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit 

I'm tryna murder the microphone 

I'm tryna murder the microphone 

Too many frogs go "ribbet" but never leave lilies 

(That was part uno, this is part two though) 

These niggas might play cray, try slay me 

Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday 

Right footed melee, strapped a light AK 

Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ 

Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles 

Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble 

Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated 

It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it 

How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all 

Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all 

A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all 

Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all 

Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall 

From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs 

It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to 

Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit 

I'm tryna murder the microphone 

Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone 

Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet 

(That was part uno, this is part two though)