Roast Beef - Jarv

I’m ready to spaz -blast phat shat

Splattering average acts

Slash with a rapping axe

Get gashed with the font

Smashed with the back

Rhythmatic savage stabbing the track

And leaving it lying there leaking

My style is far too advanced

Pansy be crying and pleading

Handle me?

Never could ya

I’m just too good son

Go kaboom when I say it

And you’ll stay where I kaput ya

I’ll wrap a mic cable around your neck and then I’mma pull it until you go pop

So stop- my flows hotter than lava

Jack, I’m that sick

Rappers get slapped with a flaccid dick

And their rhyme-books ripped up

Scattered, slathered in piss

Spitting excrement

Excited I step, set on the precipice

When I arrive I’ll jet

And the fly higher than heaven is

(if that exists)

But I ain’t getting into that now

The beat is pounding loud

So I’m about to lay the smackdown

You max out at four

But I’mma double it up

Let me summon the troubled gut and leave you stumbling, son

Check it, I reckon I rock and I roll

I’mma set it way better than y’all and ill blow it up

I can now say that I’m well on my way

I connected a sick multisyllabic flow

And I’m kicking it, wicked- when I get to spitting

I rip it in two, I’m in tune with the rhythm

I’m giving em all of it, bottled or canned

I can shatter your frame with a mic in my hand

If you want it, come get it- I’m steadily moving

And proving that you cannot even compute it

I do it to music, I do it to nothing

I do it for me and that’s end of discussion

I’m bombing upon it and breaking the beat

You be talking a lot, but not saying a thing

When you add it all up, it’s abundantly clear

No competitor’s ever been hanging with me

So punk, pump your brakes

I run the race verbally

Concussed and maimed

You’ve come for brain surgery

Like J. Dahmer-

I’mma lobotomize your mind eternally

And arrange your circuitry

Until ya heard of me

You think you’re gonna stop me?

You’re gonna have to have an army

I’ll mow your slags roast beef

Out back of the Arby’s

Then blast ya with a cap-gun

Just for being wack son

I’ll roast your faggot style

In the trash out back of the Pacsun

Send ashes back

Or I’ll scatter em on a smacking track

Kato kicking ass

Like high-schoolers and hackey-sacks

Action packed

Drifting my Jetta, blasting acid-jazz

Your favorite rappers got flows?

Go grad his ass a maxi pad

Phat in fact

Super superb- swerve: elegant

Back to back

Purging a verse- burst;

intelligent

Indelible, I’m making my mark

Marks’ll go silent

Making sure your read my rhyme

Every time that you close your eyelids

Fuck that overdone shit

I don’t need no punch in

Just give me the microphone

I’ll treat your whole crew to a luncheon

You cunts with your fancy videos

Be on some dumb shit

I’ll blow holes in your dome

Prone to throw flows and run shit

Bust it

I’ll destroy your meek, toy plans

You’re feeling weak when you see me

In my b-boy stance

So look away, man- no second glance

Slam anybody for tampering

Leaving em tucking like buffalo bill

Still devoid of a chance

You’re a big mouth like Fairuza Balk

Or Malachi from Children of the Corn

I’m scorning y’all in bulk

Ya’ll are dull and dumb

But kid, i come equipped with a spark

When its all said and done

You won’t forget the name

It’s Jarv