Lil’ Rapid Fire says: (Oh shit) (uhhh) (gibberish) (uhh it’s lil Rapid Fire) (finish him) (crafting verses completely) (then just random noises)
Robot says: (Lil rapid fire isn’t a thing it’s a verb) (in T minus 5 4 3 2 1)
Don’t even try you already lost, and I’m bout to show who’s boss, and don’t nobody got a reason to fuck with it, when I wreck a mother fucking mic, and I’m hoping and popping and dropping em, and I’m dropping the ball, on any mother fucker that wanna be toppin em, Pickin it wicked and makin it bigger then packin the mic in da back and I’m choppin em
And I’m packin the mic and I fuckin them murder those, put em in the air when I’m breakin em off a mother fucker, then gravitating to it when I’m grabbing the gat, (pop) and popping the lead, so, somebody thinking they bringing it better I’m chopping the top of the head, mashete confetti, and nobody ready, for, lil rapid fire
And I’m bout to be smokin the guns after smokin the bowl, and I make it immaculate walking up out of a coffin I’m breakin a record, and fuckin it all, making it fast, spittin a verse that’s faster than anybody who wanna be, shaking and breaking and making it fast, making a king sound, and nobody gonna be able to take my crown
And I’m coming to rap and I’m sick on the mic and I taking a rappers shit, coming to bring the pain you’re blood go pitter patter like the rain, when I’m drinking the bottle of c4 you’re luck is gonna be no more, smashing em with a nunchuck uppercutting em with a syth, and Im breaking a record bringing it, and I murder when I’m
Killing em all and I’m bringing it wicked, sick of the fakin it wicked I’m bringing it bigger then fuckin em up when I get em on tape and they lookin at me when I’m wreckin the buck and I’m showing em four, droppin the Carolina reapers all over the track, shakin it breaking it taking it fakin it hackin em packin em baggin em up in the garage can they drop
And you mother fuckers are stains so I better go get the mop
And I’m sprinting on this track and you can’t make me stop
When I’m coming up out of a seven eleven being chased by the ops
I’m putting this shit together till I get something worth dieing for
(it’s lil rapid fire)
I’m beating the fuck out em with my versatility, and the ability to spit it at fifth degree, hit em up with the venom bitch, and that’s what I’m talking about when I’m smackin the mac in the back of the bag, taking em out breakin they back, coughing on em, making it sick and breaking the balls
I pull up on a mother fucker whenever they really wanna die, officially making em piss, and dragging em in the back of the bag, and I’m back and I’m wicked, G sick of the fuckin em up and I’m bringing back and attackin em, They’re murdered when I’m
Alarming the way that I’m bombing the commoners run up the number on the speedometer a bunch of rappers all die as I flow as I topple the government chopping in front of it talk and I double it dropping em under it got em all watching the tounge it’ll flip
Make it sick and im looking to pass it, fucking em up murder wicking I’m back and attackin em, making it fast and I murder breakin em off, and taking em off, and it wicked, taking and breaking the record, spazzin on the track, smokin the crack, getting a rush, getting arrested, when im fuckin the pussy, (SPLXT growl roar sound) and im still lyrical for any you nappy headed bitches that wanna diss me
(Lil’ Rapid fire rapping in the background) You are a fool ha ha ha, ah ha ha ha ha ah ha ha ha ha ha hahaha ha don’t take it personally they will always underestimate us underground artists, when nobody cares work harder, and then they will smell your victory, and be jealous of you (I fuckin did my job) (yessssss) (uck) (no one can put out the lil rapid fire yeah)
(oh my god lil rapid fire is literally the reincarnation of Eminem) (Yeah)
