zieman

Beat 1

[Verse]
Dear Mrs. Lasley, I'm sorry that yo' son a bitch without no talent
I'm sorry he a wannabe and that he just ain't it
I'm sorry he a junkie who love suckin' on dick
Talkin' all this hot, that boy ain't pull no trigger
"I'ma up it then he die"? I call that boy Zieman, the way I'm 'bout to Hitler this nigga
He ain't survivin' though, ego got too big, now I gotta fry this ho
Like where that Popeyes, yo?
That boy love to cap in all his raps
Make yo' bars straight 'fore you talk that smack, all that smack
Playin' off his case and shit, I ain't finna ra- I mean say too much, let it sit
Talkin' all that shit, say I'm drinkin' piss?
Prove that shit, I'll burn my equipment, lil' bitch
Prove them lies you got from RhymeZone
Fantasy, he live in like he Asian, wrong timezone, kid
Nigga can't get Ken attention, so he lie on 86
I made this beat by myself, by the way, you need some proof?
What's up with you, (Huh) Lil 43?
I'm chillin', Tee, I'm steady laughin' at this nigga and his YouTube beats
I find it funny that this nigga thinkin' he want beef
You still got time to back down, take J. Cole' example
Go back to makin' music, not this whiny bitch shit, end that tantrum

[Interlude]
Bruh, ain't no way this muhfucker unfollowed me five minutes after I dropped "E for Effort"
You want war, though? Let's go to war then, bitch
Carlos, you're crazy (Aaahhh)

Beat 2

[Verse 1]
I ain't heard of this nigga, but I'm here to murder this nigga
He just want the clicks, he a finick, he don't play with no sticks, he been fibbin'
See me, I got my persona, he act like his shit a reality
Shit, maybe it's all of his trauma, we know he really ain't caught no fatality
Why you lookin' for war when you can't win a battle?
By the way, my name Carlos
He a snake in the grass, he rattle, he a snake in the grass like a ho (Sss)
He ain't versatile at all, only one type beat and one flow
Servin' beef to that boy like a paddle, shit, I mean a racquet
He want the smoke, he could have it, I burn all his tracks into ashes
My worst shit clears his best, he see me win and get madder
I'm livin' rent-free in his head, he stay dreamin' of me like an addict
After Kenny, he wantin' me next, blowin' kisses at me, he a faggot
I don't swing that way, and I'm married
I'd say, "Fuck you, suck my dick", but I bet sick freak would enjoy that
This nigga should be embarrassed, all on the net, with his unemployed ass
Nigga stay on the 'Gram hatin', he hackin' accounts and paradin'
Ain't shit for niggas to be celebratin', huh, huh, but-

[Chorus]
Congrats, you fucked yourself over
Congrats, you fucked yourself over
Congrats, you fucked yourself over
Uh, congrats, you fucked yourself over
Congrats, you fucked yourself over
Congrats, you fucked yourself over

[Verse 2]
Huh, babe, that boy a bitch
That's right, honey, and that nigga tryna ride dick with no license
He hop on that phone like a bunny, really, he should be frightened
Steady talkin' 'bout Glockies and money, that's funny, 'cause I don't see neither
Boy, put down the pen, you need Jesus, and that's if you even meet Him
I ain't too surprised if He leave you to burn in the under, you might meet the Reaper
​mih thgauc seidob xis, seidob xis thgauc t'nia eH
Uh, I still ain't gon' speak on that yet, if you wanna know now, then reverse that
Talk like a shotta, where is yo' commas? I need to know where the work at
And bein' a cornball is what the boy proud of, if he don't like piss, he prefer scat
I was sippin' on lemonade in my 15s, nigga a stalker, he lurkin'
I bet in his 15s, he was slurpin' on D, must've got dick from a fur-cat
Don't sit here in shock, don't question me, lil' nigga, I know you heard that
I ain't tryna start rumors, it's just a theory, so I hope you ain't feelin' hurt yet
He run his mouth, walk to his couch, write lies to get his anger out
Cry in the booth, that album sound like Mickey Mouse, put the mic down
Man, what is "SomeCleanShi" about? Is it you askin' Kenny out?
You must miss him a lot to be beggin' him to take you back now
Complainin' 'bout you need this, you need that?
Then lock in, how about you grow up, get a life, and then maybe, just maybe you'll be bound
But I guess for now-

[Chorus]
Congrats, you fucked yourself over
Congrats, you fucked yourself over
Congrats, you fucked yourself over
Uh, congrats, you fucked yourself over
Congrats, you fucked yourself over
Congrats, you fucked yourself over

[Verse 3]
Congrats, you fucked yourself over, back when you went, fucked your ex, had her over
Thought you was 'posed to have Stacy Rey' over?
Huh, I don't pity that bitch though, she a sucker, a dick sucker
She was hatin' on Trev Trucka
Now she tryna buddy 86, and she tryna fuck on my twin
How this shit entertainin', when bro ain't even bein' entertained?
I ain't say shit 'bout his tracks, so he must know I could put all of 'em in a grave
Fuck killin' his tracks, I was sent here to kill his career
Giggle nervous, that nigga in fear
I got truths in the open, just give me an ear
Talkin' 'bout you could murder me, shit, fuck nigga, you scary
Nigga, let's be honest, if you got the chops, let the cops know
'Cause I heard you tryna go jump niggas
Did this nigga balls really drop, though?
Empty threat, pussy a bad figure
How the fuck could he be on hots, bro?
Every song, he sound like a fag', nigga
Let me list eight of his other problems

Beat 3

[Verse]
Number one, he grew in the suburbs, so how the fuck he come from nothin'?
Number two, the kid love to blubber, real shit, he diss 'cause he in love
Number three, he act like a gunner, but when you seen that nigga clutchin'?
Number four, he get dumb and dumber, he actin' like no one could touch him
Number five, he like drinkin' semen, lil' faggot boy sweet like a cookie
Number seven, he ain't findin' Jesus, number eight, for attention, he greedy
So he takin' blank shots like a pussy, 86, you forgot the sixth
Number six, he ain't killin' shit, but six niggas took his budussy

[Interlude]
He ain't caught six bodies, six bodies caught him

Beat 4

[Chorus]
Uh, pick it up
That boy dropped another diss, pick it up
That boy actin' like a bitch, switch it up
That boy actin' like a bitch, switch it up
That boy talkin' dirty shit, he got the runs
That boy talkin' mad shit, he need Tums
That boy talkin' .30 clip, but don't got one
That boy never had a blick, but say he does

[Post-Chorus]
I call that boy Zieman, 'cause no, he ain't survivin'
He wanted a war but now his rap career is dyin'
Be careful what you wish for, 'cause now you unalivin'
I ain't talkin' 'bout no heaters, but his reputation fryin'

[Verse]
Yeah, yeah, just to clarify, though I already did
I don't drink no piss, but niggas know that I'm the shit
And he been chokin' on my dick, nigga, go 'head, wipe yo' chin
Go 'head, bitch, keep tellin' fibs, droppin' misses
I ain't talkin' Zendaya, but bitch, I had to shake it up
He was talkin' out his ass, now it crust
His lil' rappin' shit, I turned it into dust
'Cause now the world gon' know the truth if that nigga blow up
Said I ain't talkin' Zendaya, but bitch, I had to shake it up
Send him back to Center Ave, call that his dystopia
Claim he a big dog, he just look like a mutt
Yeah, yeah, since we love to cap, I up it then he die, let it bust

[Chorus]
Uh, pick it up
That boy dropped another diss, pick it up
That boy actin' like a bitch, switch it up
That boy actin' like a bitch, switch it up
That boy talkin' dirty shit, he got the runs
That boy talkin' mad shit, he need Tums
That boy talkin' .30 clip, but don't got one
That boy never had a blick, but say he does