[Intro: Jacob Tomlin]
Ooh, aye, you finna die, baby
Hahahahahaha
Aye, aye
Yeah, Maxo on the beat, you feel me
Aye
Maxo
What, what, what
Jack, stop
[Verse 1: Jacob Tomlin]
Kid Pain ain’t pulling up, how the fuck you expect to diss when you ain’t shit
Running up bands like a motherfucker if you trynna diss then we finna blitz
From the UK, bitch, we really with shits
How you look like a child and also touch kids
Sinner, goddamn, bitch I’m not afraid to sin
Mummy still calling for your fucking din dins
[Verse 2: Lil Glassy]
Bustin' rhymes, all the time
[?] on my side
I'ma die in the candlelight, I'ma fuckin rap 'til I die
Reaper on my side
Goth boy [?]
Goth boy [?] I'ma drop a rhyme
All the time, drop top limousine, drop top limousine
[?] on my side, I'ma drop it
Indian diss track on the boy, flow, yeah
Moonshine, moon rhyme, moon time
Writing rhymes 'til I die
Drop fire bars
Drop fire bars [?] in the ground
.38 to the face
Glock by my side, we will wait 'til I die
Put the Glock to the head, pull the trigger, yah
T-Series, T-Gay, Kid Pain
I'ma ride 'til I die, put the Glock to your head
Pull the trigger, very clever
I'ma ride 'til I fuckin' [?], oh yah
[Interlude]
Bro, my phones fucking cracked as shit, man
[Verse 3: Jacob Tomlin & Lil Glassy]
Lil bitch coming at me, yeah, you don’t know who you messing with, huh
Mortem Posse know we coming with 'em dicks
Living like a rockstar, you living like a bitch
Pricks, nobody is backing you
You racking two
You tried to be cool and now bitches lacking you, huh
Pricks, I can’t fuck with you Indian boy, lil' prick nobody wants you in your own home
Sending demo tapes to T-series, homie, it’s clear to me, huh
Sesame Street because it's murder she wrote
Nobody giving you head
That’s a fake fucking boast
Yeah, aye
Put on a coat
Jump into the 'rari, bitch, you will be fucking sorry
Ice on my neck, it's murder she wrote
Plug on the boat, bitch you will fucking float, yah, yah
[Verse 4: DeanParty]
Indian scammer, [?]
Ignorant gibberish
You will be nothing