Correction Lyrics World War III by VI Seconds

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Lyrics

{UNFINISHED}
Oh gawd, father, what have we done?
Try and hide, you could pray to the sky, or you could run
But nobody is escaping the eye, but the all-seeing ones above
Yeah me and VI, we meet again
Round three ain't the same as a brawl
This time we coming for y'all
I put the clip in the Mac, pass it to VI and he draws
He puts that gun to your jaw (duh, duh)
Like the hair of Rapunzel, you fall
Rappin underdog, collab on a song
On- on- on- on-
Once upon a time in like 96', when I was a tiny sh*t
Born into the world, and the doctors said I was a whiny kid
Cried a bit, then I tried to spit
Yeah I admit my first words were something like "Flibbity Hibbity"
Ch- ch- ch- ch-
Choppa flow, when I lock and load, my sh*t is unstoppable
All I ever wanted was my momma to be proud
All my life I had anxiety that I would let her down
Watch her break her back to make a check
It hurts so bad I bounce
From the couch, out the motherf**king house
Since the motherf**king doors shutted, I been cold-blooded
Growing up with like no money
Without a full stomach, made me so hungry
So f**k a candy bar, I only eat the wrappers
I decapitate em', no channing, and turning MC
Back was still as spleen, fractures I leave, cashes in meets
Scratches as I'm relapsing, I caffeine capsules I wreak havoc
Clock is ticking I yawn ya
Tick-tick I rap long ya
All I ever do is get up on the mic
And murder every single song yeah
Motherf**ker we is reckless, no diss record
Just Luke Gawne and VI Seconds, gotta respect it
Rappers in my scope, I got a lot
Yeah I lost to VI, he's the GAWD
But y'all must've forgot, ah
Ya'll must've forgot
I don't sneak diss little pussies you'll get popped
Don't confuse this sh*t, when it comes to battle rap
There's not a dude besides VI on this YouTube sh*t
That can go against me and not lose real quick
That includes Munfo, and that Scru Face (b*t*h)
Ya'll are f**kbuddies, damn it's no wonder you're butthurt
Scru, this ain't Upchurch, I'll expose pussies like upskirts
If country singers making you lose, then come at Shaq one more time and I'll make you No Life Scru
Half you motherf**kers ain't rappers, you're reactors
Like Joe Budden when he's podcasting
That rap-hat of yours is on backwards, I'm sick of talkin'
Let's get to rapping I'm sick of tweetin' you all cappin'
Better call the cabin, go fall back, like Trick or Treatin'
It was all sweet till' I light you up, like a Jack O' Lantern
I feed em' that, eating that, believe in that
I'm not leaving them see (MC)
With an L.O.S.E and the heated battle em'
Elementary level of rappers
All I needed to get beat from you kettle
I wreak the havoc, never cease till' I see the maggots
Eat com-b*st*rds, f**king with the most ceased erratic MC ever
But I seek the damage
How many rappers murdered? Put the bodies in the bag
They diseased I amerced the more sh*t
Ah they got C-1 Squirmen, It's Dax
So should we leave them breathing, or unleash the demon
Lurking peace on earth is slowly fleeding
World War III is certain, cuz' these MC's are blind
Am I skilled, they can not see (Nazi) like Germans

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