Song Title: Motherfuckers
Artist Name: Grouce

(Hook)
Motherfuckers,
Motherfuckers think they've got me pegged…

(Verse 1)
I saw you at my show, what happened? you forgot to boo,
Lookin’ like a dickhead, you didn't know what to do,
I see you talkin’ it up when I'm not around,
But what I found is this, that there's a lot of sound
Being made but nothing worth hearing,
I think I might get my first tat or my first earring
Or, nah, maybe not, can't you see my raps are blazing hot?
They're on fire, they're amazing, what?
What's the issue? The issue is the topic at hand,
My rhymes are hotter than summer in a tropical land
But you can't seem to see that, I’ll roll the dice
And if I get the snake eyes I’ll be cold as ice,
I'm on a level that you can't reach,
I’ll flip the hourglass on crystal blue palm beach,
When you scamps get together you're worse than a sowin’ circle,
You’re blue in the face and it's goin’ purple…

(Hook)

(Verse 2)
My memory’s shot, just like the Kennedys got,
I see my enemies plot, but my identity’s not
To be pegged, I'm gettin’ egged on, I'm keepin’ my head strong,
‘Cause people's’ opinions have always been fuckin’ dead wrong,
I'm goin’ headlong into the beat,
That I made with this rap that you're fin to delete,
I only came here to win and defeat these fuckin’ suckers
I've had it up to here with all of you motherfuckers,
This rap shit’s got me bugged,
Everybody’s gonna cop it, gettin’ properly fucked
But let’s face it, your life? Yeah, it probably sucked
Before I entered into it, admit you want me, cunt,
To turn your mind upside down,
You will find no one that's iller when in my town,
Check the steez, I'm infecting these
Ears of yours, I've been doin’ this for years, because…

(Hook)

(Verse 3)
I'm pissed off beyond belief,
Fuck you if you don't think it's wrong to beef,
Fuck that, you can shove that up your butt,
You're gonna cop an uppercut,
Call out the wrong name and you will get touched,
Piss off the wrong person and real gets much
Fuckin’ realer, you’ll get fucked up like a fuckin’ drug dealer
High on his own supply, no one’s iller than me
But I don't need to single anyone out
To do my thing which some doubt
Is an artform,
If you're talkin’ shit about me, I’ll pin you to the dartboard,
Fuckin’ bullseye, man, I’ll blast you off the map
Then I’ll say, “you fuckin’ asked for that”,
If you don't like what you're hearin’, move on,
No one cares what you think about my new song…

(Hook)