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World War 3 Lyrics - Artist : GAWNE
[GAWNE:]
Oh gawd, father, what have we done? Try and hide, you could pray to the sky, or you could run But nobody is escaping the eye of the all-seeing ones above Yeah me and VI, we meet again Round three ain't the same as a brawl This time we coming for y'all I put the clip in the Mac, pass it to VI and he draws He puts that gun to your jaw (duh, duh) Like the hair of Rapunzel, you fall Rappin underdog, collab on a song On- on- on- on- Once upon a time in like 96', when I was a tiny shit Born into the world, and the doctors said I was a whiny kid Cried a bit, then I tried to spit Yeah I admit my first words were something like "Flibbity Hibbity" Ch- ch- ch- ch- Choppa flow, when I lock and load, my shit is unstoppable All I ever wanted was my momma to be proud All my life I had anxiety that I would let her down Watch her break her back to make a check It hurts so bad I bounce From the couch, out the motherfucking house Since the motherfucking doors shutted, I been cold-blooded Growing up with like no money Without a full stomach, made me so hungry So fuck a candy bar, I only eat the wrappers I decapitate em', no channing, and turning MC Back was still as spleen, fractures I leave, cashes in meets Scratches as I'm relapsing, I caffeine capsules I wreak havoc Clock is ticking I yawn ya Tick-tick I rap long ya All I ever do is get up on the mic And murder every single song yeah Motherfucker we is reckless, no diss record Just Luke Gawne and VI Seconds, gotta respect it Rappers in my scope, I got a lot Yeah I lost to VI, he's the GAWD But y'all must've forgot, ah Ya'll must've forgot I don't sneak diss little pussies you'll get popped Don't confuse this shit, when it comes to battle rap There's not a dude besides VI on this YouTube shit That can go against me and not lose real quick That includes Munfo, and that Scru Face (bitch) Ya'll are fuckbuddies, damn it's no wonder you're butthurt Scru, this ain't Upchurch, I'll expose pussies like upskirts If country singers making you lose, then come at Shaq one more time and I'll make you No Life Scru Half you motherfuckers ain't rappers, you're reactors Like Joe Budden when he's podcasting That rap-hat of yours is on backwards, I'm sick of talkin' Let's get to rapping I'm sick of tweetin' you all cappin' Better call the cabin, go fall back, like Trick or Treatin' It was all sweet till' I light you up, like a Jack O' Lantern I feed em' that, eating that, believe in that I'm not leaving them see (MC) With an L.O.S.E and the heated battle em' Elementary level of rappers All I needed to get beat from you kettle I wreak the havoc, never cease till' I see the maggots Eat com-bastards, fucking with the most ceased erratic MC ever But I seek the damage How many rappers murdered? Put the bodies in the bag They deceased; I murked them, oh shit I think I C-1 Squirmen (see one squirming), It's Dax So should we leave them breathing, or unleash the demon Lurking peace on earth is slowly fleeding World War III is certain, cuz' these MC's are blind Am I skilled, they can not see (Nazi) like Germans Everybody thinking that they really 'bout it When they Twitter-tweet all this shit about me Keep on talking 'bout me till you catch a bounty Then they find your body with the chalk around it Yeh boo-hoo, little wack fools Your rap dudes wearing poo-poo pampers All of y'all been moving weird I hate motherfucking Youtube rappers Oh gawd, father, what have we done? Try and hide, you could pray to the sky, or you could run But nobody is escaping the eye of the all-seeing ones above Yeah me and VI, we meet again Round three ain't the same [VI Seconds:] I've developed a habit of sorts I'm the type to kill you, then do a collab with your corpse Send words at me then I'ma let the ratchet retort Side bar, Scru and Munfu, my mandem of course I will poof you niggas If I choose to, I'm coocoo, nigga Deuce-Deuce spitter, I hate most of you Youtube niggas Get stupid if we fall out like a loose tooth, nigga The handy-dandy drawn like Blue's Clues, nigga You're fucking embarrassing, you don't get etiquette; y'all don't know how to act Do anything for applause till you end up getting clapped [?] wanna box, but none of these niggas know how to scrap Fuck niggas that wanna diss, but none of these niggas know how to rap See the ratchet; the blood sucker, if you speaking on me brother It get popping for the views since you like leeching off each other I'll be in the cut, watching, shaking my head Same niggas y'all gossip 'bout try breaking the bread What part of the game is this? Why y'all niggas so pussy? Keep clacking till I clack it 'cause you've choosen to push me Cut those versus verses you'll be rehearsing with all them curses 'Cause most of y'all the nicest motherfuckers in person These ain't bars, I'm just telling y'all what all of your lives like If you sleeping you get plugged, lit up like a night light I'll give it to anybody in this bitch for the profit Trying to say I ain't the Gawd only shows the false prophets I'll be where your IP is, I'll go door-to-door knocking To punch you in your mouth and take shit out your pockets I'm the whooping that you don't want; you'll never be ready Y'all niggas grown ass men still looking like you get wedgies I'm different! Watch your mouth when speaking my name You're in arm's reach? The arm's reached - so stay out of my range [?] you I making sure to forget you when the tech 'pews' You ain't never rap with me? I prolly don't respect you Youtube done bred pussies this a venue for a front Hold my four front, blinking at everyone on the forefront These fast rap niggas that don't say shit These niggas that love to tweet about you, but see you and don't say shit [?], you get filleted, but I don't say shit On the side I got lines for all of y'all like a K-swiss The nicest nigga in this bitch, I'm death to you rappers Insecurities got you buggin', who's protecting you actors? Every play from y'all is scripted, all you fucking do is bitching Then shit get real you backpedal and act uplifting You're corn balls and now you hear me speaking to you You're hearing me pop smoke, rest in peace to the [?] It's Brooklyn! And I don't care if you're a nigga that does reactions A Paul's brother, KSI, I want action A fake, positive, youtube rapper, I want action I'll backsmack you and put it on Twitter, I want action Y'all disgust me, and now there's a reason to discuss me I know some of y'all wanna punch me, but won't touch me [?] that's trying to fuck me Rest of you motherfuckers ain't lucky [GAWNE:] Oh gawd, father, what have we done? Try and hide, you could pray to the sky, or you could run But nobody is escaping the eye of the all-seeing ones above Yeah me and VI, we meet again Round three ain't the same |
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