Kronic Braggart

[V1]

It takes a punk motherfucker to brag, but go figure

Flow nigga? I'm leaving your bitch with more just 3 holes in her

Stuff woodchips into your corpse and torture you with a soul splinter

Blowing over you into the net, like you was a 4 foot goaltender

Hold ya pen up, I'll swipe it off with your hand attached, Imagine that

Your faggot ass is the poster girl for Vagistat

You're braggin that you defeated me with a battle rap in a hear me chat

Stop riding my dick...gimme the fuckin saddle back

Fast to react, I'm certain to, FACT

The only pat on the back you ever got was when mommy was burping you

I burn shit up, give your father a nervous hug

This shit is just like TLC at dinner the way that I serve this scrub

My words are much more elaborate than a Persian rug

Cause I'm more of a novel writer than the author of "To Sir With Love"

I twirl a thug impostor into pasta; you got the look

but you ain't worth a fuckin word like a speech from Laetitia Casta

This'll cost ya much more than a loss, I want your life force

Tonight, you're going down for sure, bitch, like a dyke whore

These high purity viruses, I fight off

Cause I'm dousing the chronic plague with industrial Lysol

Twice as raw, cause I pen a sonnet a day

Richard Simmons told me this commie kronic plague was atomically gay

In the most astonishing way, I be taking the the fast route

Battling me, You're like a frog in a bathhouse, ass out

I'm reversing the last doubt, that I can smoke you in a conflict

Amputating your arms so I can poke you in the armpit

With the sharpest of objects

You should take immodium AD, because you need to stop that soft shit

Im encoding the proper topics to cover

Even started a non-for-profit organization to kill you under

I chop prison's in half, and split cells

Bitch you rhyme like Ricky Martin just stuck his dick in your shit-well

I wish to dispel, any notion you spit well

Strap zarbon to a car bomb, spark the engine and excel

I watched your head swell from your sweetest moment

With Glamour Shots with an airbrushed t-shirt saying 'I Beat Tonedeff' on it

I deliver the type of flow components that zone in

Attaching to the weakest host, and then slowly drone till your brain's imploding

Controlling your mind to expose you in public

Cause yo, my style is like a hooker with herpes - Not to be fucked with

Don't even attempt to blush, bitch, or even take a stand

Got you shook, like the Pope and Mohammed Ali shaking hands

This is the way I land, with minimization

I am iller than all the kids in the make a wish foundation

So, fuck a braggin bastard with a massive passion

Your girl said you come up short

with your rhyme schemes and just how fast you've lasted

You bite more than a scrappy mastiff

I drafted a pack of stationary reading 'Plague's a Pussy' on the masthead

I'm giving the medical field a new reason to research

Making your head chatter enough to make your fucking teeth hurt

Revert and I will come and find you

Bitch, I will even produce the beat you'll be saying you battle rhymes to

A lyrical gift that shines true to blind you

I would go back and obliterate your atoms if I had the time to

Everything you're spitting I strike a line through, like it's connect the dots

Fuck a last line, I wrecked your spot - what