Yeah... You know, critics man,
Critics never got
Nothing nice to say man,
You know, the one thing I notice
About critics man... is,
Critics never ask me
How my day went...
well I'ma tell 'em...
Yesterday my dog died;
I hogtied a ho, tied her in a bow,
So next time you blog,
Try to spit a flow!
You wanna criticize dog?
Try a little more!
I'm so tired of this I could blow,
Fire in the hole!
I'm fired up, so fire up
The lighter and the dro,
Better hold on a little tighter,
Here I go,
Flow's tighter,
Hot-headed as Ghostrider,
Cold-hearted as Spiderman
Throwin a spider in the snow.
So you better get lower
Than Flow Rida
Inside of a lowrider
With no tires in the hole...
Why am I like this?
why is winter cold?
Why is it when I talk
I'm so biased to the hoes?
Listen dog, Christmas is off,
This is as soft as it gets,
This isn't golf,
This is a blistering assault,
Those are your wounds,
This is the salt, so get lost!
Shit, dissin me is just like
Pissin off the Wizard of Oz,
Wrap a lizard in gauze,
Beat you in the jaws with it,
Grab the scissors and saws
And cut out your livers,
Gizzards and balls,
Throw you in the middle of the ocean
In the blizzard with Jaws.
So sip piss like sizzurp
Through a straw,
Then discribe how it tasted
Like dessert to us all,
Got the gall to make Chris
Piss in his drawers,
Tickle him, go to his grave,
Skip him and visit his dog...
[Hook:]
You're on fire,
That's how you know you're on a roll
Cause when you're hot it's like
You're burnin up everyone else's cold;
You're on fire,
Man I'm so fuckin sick I got
Ambulances pullin' me over and shit;
You're on fire,
You need to stop, drop and roll
Cause when you say the shit
To get the whole Hip-Hop Shop to blow
You're on fire, you're on fire...
I just put a bullshit hook
In between two long ass verses,
If you mistook this for a song,
Look, this ain't a song,
It's a warnin to Brooke Hogan
And David Cook that the crook
Just took over, so book,
Run as fast as you can,
Stop writin and kill it,
I'm lightning in a skillet,
You're a fuckin flash in the pan,
I pop up, you bitches
Scatter like hot grease
Splashin a fan.
Mr Mathers is the man,
Yeah I'm pissed but I
Would rather take this energy
And stash it in a can,
Come back and whip your ass
With it again,
Saliva's like sulfuric acid
In your hand,
It'll eat through anything metal,
The ass of Iron Man,
Turn him into plastic,
So for you to think that you
Could stand a fuckin chance
Is asinine, yeah,
Ask Denaun man,
Hit a blind man with a coloring book
And told him:
'Color inside the lines
Or get hit with a flying crayon!'
Fuck it, I ain't playin,
Pull up in a van
And hop out at a homeless man
Holdin a sign sayin 'Vietnam Vet',
I'm out my fuckin mind man,
Kick over the can, beat his ass
And leave him 9Grand.
So if I seem a little mean to you,
This ain't savage,
You ain't never seen a brute.
You wanna get graphic?
We can go the scenic route.
You couldn't make a bulimic puke
On a piece of
Fuckin corn and peanut poop,
Sayin you sick!
Quit playin you prick,
Don't nobody care,
Then why the fuck am I yellin at air?
I ain't even talkin to no one
Cause ain't nobody there,
Nobody will fuckin test me
Cause these hoes won't even dare,
I'm wastin punchlines
But I got so many to spare,
I just thought of another one
That might go here,
Nah dont waste it,
Save it psycho yeah,
Plus you gotta rewrite those lines
That you said bout Michael's hair...
[Hook:]
You're on fire,
That's how you know you're on a roll
Cause when you're hot it's like
You're burnin up everyone else's cold;
You're on fire,
Man I'm so hot my motherfuckin
Firetruck's on fire homie;
You're on fire,
You need to stop, drop and roll
Cause when you say the shit
To get the whole Hip-Hop Shop to blow
You're on fire, you're on fire...
