End Of The Line

Don't talk to me, you better flock and leave/
I got so many fucking records, where i chop and breed/
You are soft like a feather, you are not a beast/
Every time you gotta talk, i wanna die, now please/

You are not the greatest, stop acting like it/
Im twenty feet above you, can't attack on titan/
Talking bad about me, cuz you feeling giant/
Through a fucking screen, im not that frightened/

Smoke the instrumental, til my lungs are black/
Im pokin up on the rebels, drill and run so fast/
They so mental ill, like it's mumble rap/
And i throw em on the grill, sеrving pills with that/

Man, i dont give a fuck about a diss, that's big facts/
Pull up and im eating out that pussy like a big mac/
Bitch bеlly soft like a motherfuckin bean bag/
Adding us together, quick maff, like big shaq/ (math)

Literally gonna kill em, when i get up on em and i wanna spit fast/
Fully automatic flowing, gonna make em zig zag/
Dissing any artist, gonna break em like a kit kat/
Tounging down the kitty, flick that bean up like a tic tac/

It's the end of the line, you're not gonna survive/
To say you're even good, would be a fucking lie/
I spit it so slick, while taking sips of wine/
Cuz i am N-Frost and i could fuck your wife/