Rap Devil (freestyle) Lyrics - Dj Max Star

Oh my god, Ronny 

Ayy somebody grab him some clippers (Zzz) 

His fucking beard is weird 

Tough talk from a rapper paying millions for security a year 

"I think my dad's gone crazy," yeah Hailie you right 

Dad's always mad cooped up in the studio yelling at the mic 

You're sober and bored, huh (I know) 

About to be 46 years old, dog 

Talkin' bout "I'ma call up Trick Trick" 

Man you sound like a bitch, bitch 

Man up and handle your shit (Ugh) 

Mad about something I said in 2012 

Took you six years and a surprise album just to come with a diss 

Homie we get it, we know that you're the greatest rapper alive 

Fucking dweeb, all you do is read the dictionary and stay inside 

Fuck Rap God, I'm the Rap Devil 

Coming bear face with a black shovel 

Like the Armageddon when the smoke settle 

His body next to this instrumental 

I'm saying 

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I'm sick of them sweatsuits and them corny hats, let's talk about it 

I'm sick of you being rich and you still mad, let's talk about it 

Both of us single dads from the Midwest, we can talk about it 

Or we could get gully I'll size up your 

body and put some white chalk around it 

Let's talk about the fact you actually blacked balled a 

rapper that's twice as young as you (Let's talk about it) 

Let's call Sway, ask why I can't go on Shade 45 because of you (Brr) 

Let's ask Interscope how you had 

Paul Rosenberg trying to shelf me (Huh?) 

Still can't cover up the fact your 

last four albums is as bad as your selfie 

Now tell me, what do you stand for? (What?) 

I know you can't stand yourself (No) 

Trying to be the old you so bad you Stan yourself (Ha) 

Let's leave all the beefing to 50 (Please) 

Em you're pushing 50 

Why you claiming that I'ma call Puff? 

When you the one that called Diddy (Facts) 

Then you went and called Jimmy (Facts) 

They conference called me in the morning (What?) 

They told me you mad about a tweet 

You wanted me to say sorry (What?) 

I swear to God I ain't believed him (Nah) 

Please say it ain't so (No) 

The big bad bully of the rap game can't take a fucking joke 

Oh you want some fucking smoke (What?) 

But not literally, you'll choke 

Yeah I'll acknowledge you're the GOAT 

But I'm the Gunner bitch, I got you in the scope (Brra) 

Don't have a heart attack now (No) 

Somebody help your mans up (Help) 

Knees weak of old age 

The real Slim Shady can't stand up 

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I'm sick of them sweatsuits and them corny hats, let's talk about it 

I'm sick of you being rich and you still mad, let's talk about it 

Both of us single dads from the Midwest, we can talk about it 

Or we could get gully I'll size up your 

body and put some white chalk around it 

Hello Marshall, my name's Colson 

You should go back to Recovery 

I know your ego is hurting just knowing 

that all of your fans discovered me (Hi) 

He like "Damn, he a younger me 

Except he dresses better and I'm ugly 

Always making fun of me" 

Stop all the thuggery Marshall, you living in luxury (Damn) 

Look what you done to me, dropped an album just because of me 

Damn, you in love with me 

You got money but I'm hungry 

I like the diss but you won't say those lyrics out in front of me 

Shout out to every rapper that's up under me 

Know that I'll never do you like this fuckery 

Still bitter after everyone loves you 

Pull that wedgie out your dungarees (Hey) 

I gotta respect the OGs and I know most of 'em personally (Aye) 

But you're just a bully acting like a 

baby so I gotta read you a nursery (Nursery) 

I'm the ghost of the future and you're just Ebenezer Scrooge (Facts) 

I said on Flex, anyone could get it 

I ain't know it would be you 

I'm sick of them sweatsuits and them corny hats, let's talk about it 

I'm sick of you being rich and you still mad, let's talk about it 

Both of us single dads from the Midwest, we can talk about it 

Or we could get gully I'll size up your 

body and put some white chalk around it 

Riding shotty cause I gotta roll this dope 

It's a fast road when your idols become your rivals 

Never hesitate to say it to your face, I'm an asshole 

Bitch ass motherfucker 

Oh my god, Ronny 

We know you get nervous, Rabbit 

I see momma's spaghetti all over your sweater 

I wish you would lose yourself on the record 

that you made a decade ago, they were better 

According to them you're a national treasure 

To me you're as soft as a feather 

The type to be scared to ask Rihanna for 

her number, just hold her umbrella-ella-ella 

"I'm not afraid," okay Oscar the Grouch, chill on the couch (Fuck) 

You got an Oscar, 

damn can anyone else get some food in their mouth? (For real) 

They made a movie about you, you're in everybody's top ten 

You're not getting better with time 

It's fine Eminem, put down the pen 

Or write an apology about the simple fact 

you had to write a diss to acknowledge me 

I am the prodigy, how could I even look up to you 

You ain't as tall as me 

5'8" and I'm 6'4" 

Seven punches hold your head still 

Last time you saw 8 Mile was at home on a treadmill 

You were named after a candy 

I was named after a gangster (brr) 

And don't be a sucker and take my verse 

off of Yelawolf's album, thank you (Thank you) 

I just wanna feed my daughter 

You tried to stop the money to support her 

You the one always talk about the action 

Text me the addy, I'm pulling up scrappy 

And I'm by fucking myself, what's happenin'? 

EST captain, salute me or shoot me 

That's what he's gonna have to do to me when 

he realizes there ain't shit he could do to me 

Everybody always hated me, this isn't anything new to me 

Yeah there's a difference between us, 

I got all of my shit without Dre producing me (Aye) 

I know you're not used to me 

Usually one of your disses should ruin me 

But bitch I'm from Cleveland, 

everybody quiet this evening, I'm reading the eulogy (Shh) 

Dropped an album called Kamikaze, so that means it killed him 

Already fucked one rapper's girl this week, don't make me call Kim 

I'm sick of them sweatsuits and them corny hats, let's talk about it 

I'm sick of you being rich and you still mad, let's talk about it 

Both of us single dads from the Midwest, we can talk about it 

Or we could get gully I'll size up your 

body and put some white chalk around it