Tick, tock, mo’fucka know your time’s up
Your eyes shut on your face while you drive clutch
AKA danger zone, stay in ya lane
If you don’t want to catch a case by the time of lunch
It’s been a while since I kicked it Michael Phelps style
I’m talking Mayweather, Pacquiao, title belt style
I’m A$AP, OF, know I act wild
Gimme a kit-kat or else get smacked, child
I’m the dude they call when things get black, child
I’m so crack, you so whack, get back, child
Just one clap leave your wig pushed back, child
Last time I heard it makes your whole world black, child
Now that I’ve gotten rid of the people who don’t like rap
This is the real poem:
On the microphone I make metaphorical monsoons
To all the snakes in the grass, I am a mongoose
Tidus, you try this, my touch is so Midas
I scrap like a Spartan, that’s word to Leonidas
And fuck all these vipers, these rats and these vultures
And fuck bourgeois bitches, they so damn uncultured
I rap for the real men and hardworking ladies
Who start from the bottom to get that Mercedes
I rap for the kids who ain’t have no voice
I rap for the young thugs who ain’t have no choice
I rap for the black kids often called white
I rap for the rich kids who sniff soft white
I rap for the pimps and hos and strippers on poles
I rap for the ex-con who’s still on parole
I rap for the parents who work for the future
I rap for the students who struggle even with tutors
I rap for the rich and I rap for the poor
I rap for the mountains, I rap for the shores
When it’s all said and done, I rap for everyone
My thoughts are like guns, I’m unloading every one

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