Uppit Street Sessions Vol. 6

[Intro]
Zach Byrne
Uppit Lounge, let's do this shit

[Verse]
Ay, word to Westside Gunn
Possess the pen and bless my tongue
Lord knows yes, the best die young, here I come
I don't wanna hear your bars or the rest, I'm done
I'mma deck pythons, you can bet I stun
Stop rappin' 'bout cars that you ain't got
Do your day job, K dog, you fake flop
I pray stop, can't match, we don't faceoff
Bad to the bone, R.I.P. to Takeoff
What I make hot, you can taste spice
One day, I'mma make it up on Takeflight
Other cunts like Clyde when he played Mike
I make 'em hate life, running back, Ray Rice
We ain't born the same, draw for days
My pen a scorching flame, temp rising like Tory Lanez
Yours' are poorly made, haunted ways - torn and grey
Thoughts invade my brain, I'm just tryna crawl away
Born in May, sure to slay, she like Miss You Too
Whatcha daughter, my mind a sword and blade
Distorted cray, all the strains and they gone away
Make a tune, shake the room and the floor to break
Check the bar receipts, go peep my last release
Me, Gursky, Marshall St. - calling that a masterpiece
Crafty freak, past the beef, I'm just after peace
Rasp elite but this ain't no Disasterpiece
I could out-bar you cunt, it ain't hard to
Top of the ranks, I'm like Francis Ngannou
Tear you apart, too scared and you're past due
You'd shit your pants in a bathroom, fuck you!
I just rhyme and I spat
Straight crazy, I'm like Ivan Milat
Combined with a bat, eyes of a cat
You fuckers hide in the back, Arkham Asylum
Might find him in that just writing a rap