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FaKe ASiAn GaNgStER - FiNaL CHaP ThE GoD DiSS
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ThE LaSt SoNg AbOuT CHaPPy aka CHaP ThE FRaUd aka The F.A.G. (FaKe ASiAn GaNgStEr). THiS iS ThE ReSpOnSe To HiS LaSt 2 "DiSSeS" On Me. EvErY LiNe iS A KiLLeR... 3 MiNuTeS 45 SeCoNdS oF MuRDeR. ThE BeeF iS OVeR.
cobra freestyle undergrou
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YoUnG CoBrA, A MeMbEr Of ThE GrOuP MaLiCiOuS On BaStArDs aka M.O.B., iS FiNaLLy ReLeAsInG SinGLeS FRoM HiS HiGhLy AnTiCiPaTeD ALbUm, TiTLeD VeNoM, WHiCh WiLL Be
BY iT's A CLuB SoNg To GeT YoU HyPeD FoR ThE ReTuRn... VeRsEs, DeLiVeRy, AnD BeAt ArE aLL StRaiGhT !!!!! PRODUCED AND MIXED BY ME. Whas' happnin it's ThA CoBrA a.k.a. YoUnG CoBrA.. You might know of me from the group MaLiCiOuS On BaStArDs, and in Q1 2004 I'm comin' out with my solo album... Not sure on the name yet. I'm 16, reppin tha East Bay in CaLi, and I been rappin since I was about 12. Right now I'm unsigned... if you produce tracks, got a studio, wanna collab, or got connections with a record label, plz holla at me or have them contact me if you think my shit is tight.. so check out my songs and lyrics (Which are all CoPyRiGhTeD with My MoNeY!), and holla at a nigga wit some comments or any questions, at g4mesp1tta@yahoo.com.
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop • Hardcore Rap
Charts
Peak #1,394
Peak in subgenre #231
Author
YoUnG CoBrA
Rights
YoUnG CoBrA 2003
Uploaded
June 21, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.4 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
Last response to his most recent 2 disses.
Lyrics
Yo I heard enough noise outta this fag He got a new diss on me And now he put his boyfriend on the track Chap and Rob speak my name Thinking it’ll keep em in fame So I’m releasin the safety And pumpin the heat through their brains But I’ma keep this SHORT AND SWEET Like a layer of cake I’m bout to expose you Chap You ain’t a gangster, you’re FAKE My HEAT’S ON FULL BLAST, so the BEEF IS BOUT DONE The only time you RAP HOT is when you SPEAK ABOUT SUN To tell the truth, you don’t know what you speak about son… ONLY TIME YOU HELD MAGAZINES WAS TO READ ABOUT GUNS These online hoes don’t bother me I don’t bother them… you made your rap in a day? THAT’S why it’s so low-quality You’re just a so-so homo prodigy You SUCK at SPITTING, blow dro, blow bros, swallowing I got a nine that’ll bust That’ll pry through your vest So when I SPARK the GUN You can START TO RUN But that only means that you’ll DIE IN A RUSH Believe me, slugs’ll slice ya up chest When you try to fight with the best I’m the Ace in rapping The man, I HANDLE my HEAT like a BAD CASE OF ACNE I’ll POP AND I’LL SCAR… I’m facin a Chappy That CAN’T HANDLE his BEATS So I just compare him to a SURGEON DROPPIN A HEART Nigga you COULDN’T BE ME if he COPIED MY BARS But you TALK like you hard I’m wit a beam and tool, on crook and the theft shlt I seen you dude… You LOOK ANOEREXIC But you're losin more than your meals... I ain't STEALIN YOUR STYLE from 98 nigga, You're just LOSIN' ALL OF YOUR SKILL Who you choose~to~father, Chappell? Claim i'm your son, i'll leave you DEAD-BEAT-DAD And send the bruisers outta the steel Swearin you GANGSTA cause your BITCH slung dope I seen your battle against Hurricaine… NIGGA YOU DIDN’T GET ONE VOTE (PROVE ME WRONG) You might have a career, but I’m bangin at your chances I’ll end your family tree and leave you hangin from the branches And I’d rather use words for brawlin But if it come to it Shells are gonna drop on your back like turtles fallin I rhyme heavy, like I rap-spittin-rocks And the only time that you was ever ill Was way back when you had-chicken-pox And you best believe that I have-plenty-glocks So keep talking and my guns’ll be poppin like a Jack-in-the-box I’ll murder you fast, leave you under dirt in the grass You ain’t on my level cause there ain’t a herb in my class Chap, your work is just trash, you ain’t merkin my ass Every song you make about me is even-worse than your last You can’t keep up with the your beats, kid, your flow sucks My advice to you… is to keep makin slow songs… (PLAY CLIP) I’m dippin low in my Benz with the heat inthe back You’re Asian dude, you don’t kill MCs, you be literally eatin CATS So then you claimin you ill… Because you caught SARS Fumbling burnin soap’s the only time you drop hot bars I’m quick to bust at fakers Your lyrics are trash Last time you seen a snake in the grass You picked it up and ate it I hold them wild thangs That go BLOW, BANG To put a hole in your head While you eatin your chow mein You’ll have trouble swallowin You stay offbeat… Tracks are too fast for you like you got trouble following So you can keep frontin… Because the real Chappell Knows I’ll put a hole in his back So he resembles killer whales Take your doo rag off, Chappy It’s time to quit fakin You’re the only asian alive... That’s tryin to get waves kid! I’ll take your sister and beat her, I’m quick with the heater That ain’t a Jacob on your wrist nigga, IT’S A GENEVA So hop off my dick, and get back Your album was real popular Til niggas found out It only consists of DISS TRACKS Chappy repeatin my name? Count on it Until I put the gun to his mouth Since he got trouble keeping my name outta it You’re a fag, a Fake Asian Gangsta Only time you scrambled with weight Is when you tried to make eggs near anchors Don’t mistake me for F.A.B. But you don’t wanna F wit me Cause you’re a F.A.G. (Fake Asian Gangsta)
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