Moment Of Truth

Haha, uh

You want this battle, huh?

Oh, so you a rapper now?

Oh, oh, alright

Uh

Here we go again, prepare to meet your end

Just looked you up on Facebook, you have zero friends

This kid's a loser, yo, he ain't even kissed a girl

You write her love letters, I buy her ice and pearls

So how you like me now?

Even Roxanne's in the background saying: Wow, Bling's got style

I'm off the gold chain

If you a rapper, why is Kris your backup dancer

Like an extra on Soul Train?

I see your mommy and your daddy in the front row

They must be embarrassed for you, bro

You're not a real MC, you should quit hip-hop

Now be a good busboy​ and go get your mop

Bling, you don't want to battle

You're the snake without the rattle

You're the boat without the paddle

You're the duck without the waddle

You're the horse without the saddle

The ranch without the cattle

The day without the shadow

Son, I think you should skedaddle

Kick gravel, sayonara, punk, arrivederci

What language do I have to say it in for you to hear me clearly?

Adiós, amigo, you're over with, finito

This clown couldn't rap anything but my burrito

Kid, you have to hold your mommy's hand before you cross the street

You have to sneak out the house just to clean and sweep

And now you look queasy, I made him go mute

Put your camera phones up so you can post this on YouTube

Truth's got a screw loose, he's terrified to bust

So lightweight that I can blow him over with a gust

You're weak like seven days, you deserve boos

You should walk around in some high-heeled shoes, hah

You should rock pigtails and a skirt

You're shaking in your boots, are your feelings getting hurt?

Well, maybe I should hurt more than your feelings

Maybe I should rip the roof off the theater ceiling

Maybe you should start kneeling, his eyes are getting misty

You're so wack, if you were me, you couldn't diss me

Kissy, kissy, Roxanne, did you miss me?

I'll take you out to dinner after I've eaten this pipsqueak

And when we're on vacation, I'll let him house sit

Here's a couple bucks, buy yourself a better outfit

You know what? You don't have a stack of cash or a flashy pad

I saw you last week driving a taxi cab

Your secret's out and now they know it, sport

We'll call you if we need a ride to an airport

In fact, you can drop me off at home after this

Then you can take your couple bucks back, but as a tip

You're playing yourself like Solitaire

Telling everyone that's here that you're a millionaire

You're not a baller, you're a phony

I bet your whole crew is a bunch of rent-a-homies

And now you lie in bed lonely, your persona's a facade

The only girls you get are in the pages of a catalog

Here stands Lord of the Bluff

His lies were legendary till the truth made him hush

And what's funny is your truth is enough

Why'd you have to make up all the money and the stuff?

I guess it's easier to play the role and act hard

'Cause you don't have the guts to tell us who you really are

So you can keep a trophy that you don't deserve

I might be a busboy, but you just got served