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Freestyle 2020 (Rap Diss) Lyrics by Brandon Jamar Scott

2020

(Intro)
I had S-curls in the sixth grade
Had me looking just like Rick James
Thought the girls liked it
But they just switched lanes
An' told me I would never get laid
Dang!
Now it's current day and I get paid
Bars so sick that I spit AIDS
But every time I talk to the girls
I get tazed
Come to think about it
Ain't a bit changed, I'm lame...
Check it
Every situation, yeah, I gotta do the most
Naruto run with a JoJo pose (NANI?!)
Got a bird chest, I be looking like a crow
What happened to my hairline?
Only God knows
Kids clowning on me since 1994
Clowning on my swagger, every day was a roast
If you think I've changed just to fit in, oh no
I don't even change my clothes
All my drawers got holes
I can't talk to girls, no I'm too insecure
But I can dance in front of random folks shopping at the store
Z-list celebrity, I'll never be a star
Hitch a ride, Tesla car
Cuz I'd rather go to Mars
Told my mom I want to rap on tour
"Boy you got a good job, what you rapping for?"
Told her mind her business like an an entrepreneur
So she hit me with the belt, now my whole back sore
Every time I get a spam call "ugh" is the way I answer
I need a girlfriend who's a dancer
With a pole and a set of antlers
So I can make it rain on my dear
Like her name is Prancer
But that wouldn't be my only banter
I want an old woman, not too old with a set of Pampers
But a middle-aged black romancer
So instead of calling her a cougar
I can call her Panther ("Come here Sugah")
I don't like to fight, I'll just hit you with the bars
Assault, no battery, cuz I don't need a charge
Flows like Shady, but my skin's a little charred
But I'm no Rap God, I ain't playing with the Lord
Flow so sick, I wear a mask when I record
Went to CDC and they couldn't find a cure
Look down on my haters, cuz I know they ain't hard
Look down if they hard?
Hold up, pause
I'm off the chain cuz my ancestors slaves
If you got opinions I don't care what you say
Find me a hater that can say it to my face
"I'll say it to your face"
Aye bro, I'm just playin'
Y'all like to flex y'all be rocking some J's
I like to stretch with some Crocs out for days
Y'all ride to ride out with 20 inch blades
But the miles per gallon on my Civic is crazy
Forehead so big I just called it the five head
Or 6 head to set the standard
Tapeline's so receded it's measured in meters
It surpassed Vegeta and broke his scanners
So I cut it all off now I look very lost
I'm two eyebrows and a goatee shy of cancer
Bald peanut head someone looked and they said
I'm a monocle and a top hat away from Planters
I text back with candor, "that's nuts"
On my flip phone, T9's not a phase
Buy minutes, next time I get paid
Take that to the grave
I know it's 2000 and late
But I might just get me a pager
My skill is uncaged, to get on my level, need raise
Y'all balling on minimum wage
Hey, what's that you say?
Oh, you getting money, okay
Only bag you got's Frito-Lay
I admit it, I've been gone for a minute
But now I'm in it to win it from start to finish
My lyrics they have no limits
I'm committed to spitting with lyrics so gifted
Paint explicit images so vivid
Make Stevie Wonder have visions
My flow is that superstitious
And yes the pun was intended
Get it? He made the song "Superstition"
He blind and I gave him vision
Exaggerating my lyrics
I'm busting jokes in an instant
I'll stop if you need a minute
Is you finished?
I asked this girl for her number
She looked at me like she ain't with it
So I named my hands Wanda and Jill
At least they gon' give me them digits
I asked her why not, she said listen:
"I'm the piñata, you a midget"
"That means no matter how hard you try"
"Boy you ain't never gon' hit it"
Your favorite weirdo is black
Z-list celebrity my fame is in lack
All of my rhymes have punch lines on the track
I'm the Seinfeld of rap, "Hey look what's up with that?"
Wack, got fake gold chain on my neck
Nobody knows but I think they suspect
Don't hit the gym but I stay on a flex
I may have a bird chest, but I stay getting checks
Next, they don't like the way that I'm balling
I make it rain like the sky's falling
Cuz I'm balling like Mike Jordan
Ball so hard that I can buy Spalding
I need a truck the money I'm hauling
Drip so hard I bust rocks open
Many commas, period, jot colon
You can "Nazi" me, all of y'all "Po"land
I ain't gon' lie, no, I've been in one fight
Got my butt handed to me, no I ain't all right
The tides would have changed with a gun or a knife
But the girl beat me bad, had me screaming for my life
Psych! Huh, you know I'm playing right?
I wasn't really screaming when she hit me with the right
I came with the left and I swing with some might
But she hit me with the uppercut and all I saw was lights
Yikes!
(Intro)
Ha!
Ish ya boy
Young boner!
Lay Z on the track
Yo, 2020, you so disrespectful B
So here's a diss rap
You killed my boy Kobe, so you know there's beef
So much grief, can't even laugh at Jordan memes
Rest in peace, this year snatched him too early
So if you want to snatch away another baller
Hold on deez
Seriously, how bad can a whole year be?
Badder than two pairs of twins when they're all dimepiece
2020, should limit your days from three sixty
Five, all the way to 7 cuz this whole year's weak
The moment '19 left out, you came in discreet
You called up your team, Jan, Feb, they Marched in a scene
Jan came to greet, took Kobe, and hyped up a tweet
That had the whole hood thinking it was World War III
Feb came and swinged like a bat he ate overseas
He gave the disease, to Seattle they spread it with ease
March hit Italy, so hard that it locked down the streets
Then April knocked down the Dow Jones a couple degrees
May had the keys, for murder hornets, gave them a feed
They ate of the bees, the same moment they were released
She made the police sit on George Floyd and lay on their knees
While the man out here screaming that he just can't breathe
June came in and creeped, sparking riots concerning police
The BLM's turning "oink oink"s to BLT
July would proceed, with UFO recording release
Then August killed the Black Panther, homie, R.I.P
Chyeah, September you been a wreck
How you gon' get Twitter hacked
October you a super spreader
Even making trump sick
November made us question if
Biden president-elect
December fully in effect, 1.5 million dead
20/20's hindsight and guess what your time is done
Hope when people count they go from 18, 19, 21
Rip you out the calendar, use your paper for toilet runs
Cuz this has been a piece of crap year, I hope you caught the pun
Bona!

About “Freestyle 2020 (Rap Diss)” by Brandon Jamar Scott

Read the complete lyrics to "Freestyle 2020 (Rap Diss)" by Brandon Jamar Scott in 2020. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rap.

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