Sharks

[Intro]
Old school, new school, need to know this
Get ya game up, you better keep focus

[Verse 1]
And so I said that they were biters
Sharking up lines from lawless resolutes
Chip off the writers block with knives that chop against the destitute
Evolution of the manner, trade routines with verses
Gold with platinum, Kangol with Burberry, it hurts since
My verse gets termed as the worst, but when immersed in your playlist
That shit plays first, rehearse
All bars matter, harsh scars in battle
I bring tall spars with chatter yet all stars shatter and split
Battered by the saccharine gifts
Stolen from affiliates, your rhyme pattern rips
You shoulda stitched it by hand and mouth
Now you're shook planning doubts
Spitting west while standing south
All in all, success for you is not at all probable
When I take you to the lake to find out if you're water-soluble
I'm sick of bitches typing like they're slitting inches off a ruler
To be judged by, file pressing, consider my style metric

[Chorus]
That means stop biting my shit
That means start writing your shit

[Verse 2]
No rest for the weary or the wicked, stand witness
To no rest for the weapon, I must keep with tradition, now listen
This isn't just another sick written
From the dark star, harmed by the sharks, I get bitten
This is hard talk, don't expect a rescue
And don't let me catch you alone in the carpark
Cause sharkskin is fashion and that is me
Chart your anatomy, right down to your Carhartts
Used to write for a site but I didn't spark smart or
Write right, who could think it? My first pink slip
But this isn't a "How's My Writing?" bumper sticker
It's something you stick in and bump, like a heroin needle
See, this shit in the trunk is apparently lethal
Now y'all live to disrupt like American leaders
I'm gonna pull quick from the category
I run bullshit like a matador, si

[Chorus]
That means stop biting my shit
That means start writing your shit

[Verse 3]
I'm the rapier but you fear that the spear that Sparta fathered harbours pokes
Rich rappers might catch a Darva Conger in hopes
That the bitch that they get with doesn't switch approach
To the sickness, leave you witlessly buying her ropes
And rings and things of that nature
Shit, all you hear is rings, this bitch packs pagers
To get that paper, she'll find details to sell
Style's Fidel as hell, lives like a dictator
Type of chick that'll get ya car stolen
Hard toil, she might get up in that ass like shark oil then
Again, I can see what you thought was a far goal
But you can't trust those with hearts like charcoal
And I didn't prepare to punk
For when I put him in the boat, it was a Le Baron trunk
I connect for the very best sound and set
Now I'm rockin' your tooth right around my neck

[Chorus]
That means stop biting my shit
That means start writing your shit, kid