Splish splash, guess who's back, it's Tax
Bordum'z maxed
Makin waves
Pissed cuz your raps is whack
Awful tracks
Can't believe you thought of that
The only fuckin place for that's a fuckin garbage bag
Don't be mad that'z just a crit
That shit was bad
Just quit, be glad
Of all the fun times you had
So you can't rap
Ain't the end of the world
So whatchu got laughed at
Whatchu do wrong? Let's look back...
First off
Think everybody be dissin you
You fly off the handle
And so you start dissin too
But they just tryin to help you dude
You cold right now
You're down like you got the flu
But that's why we're here
This place is an institute
A place for you to fine tune
But we don't gotta take abuse
So don't just let loose, and think
We'll show respect, we'll induce
Pain
And introduce your face to cellophane
Til you suffocate
But we'll leave the body
So your fam's got something to commemorate
I just hope that'll compensate
For your parents loss
And help with the flow of their day-ta-day
Operations
But some way
It'll be fuckin up their concentration
On your birthday
It should be a celebration
But you 6 feet under
Stuck in permanant isolation
Infinite's changin
His whole attitude's replacin
Now he's Tax, so anxious he's pacin
His heart's racin
He's locked on your ear
And aimed for penetration
Lyrical molestation
These times of tribulation
Have forced Tax to play Satan
This place need savin
From the excess of hatin
So man your station
You best be bracin for impact
Cuz i'm gon react violently
I'mma rap everything but silently
Can't silence me
This hypocracy, rap citys
Forced me to be
The vigilance committee
No more sittin pretty
'The fuck outta here, you can't produce a ditty
When i rap anyone listenin catch colliflower ear
Like Oklahoma City
Their brains crumble, that's just how it is
When you get down to the nitty gritty
Bordum'z maxed
Makin waves
Pissed cuz your raps is whack
Awful tracks
Can't believe you thought of that
The only fuckin place for that's a fuckin garbage bag
Don't be mad that'z just a crit
That shit was bad
Just quit, be glad
Of all the fun times you had
So you can't rap
Ain't the end of the world
So whatchu got laughed at
Whatchu do wrong? Let's look back...
First off
Think everybody be dissin you
You fly off the handle
And so you start dissin too
But they just tryin to help you dude
You cold right now
You're down like you got the flu
But that's why we're here
This place is an institute
A place for you to fine tune
But we don't gotta take abuse
So don't just let loose, and think
We'll show respect, we'll induce
Pain
And introduce your face to cellophane
Til you suffocate
But we'll leave the body
So your fam's got something to commemorate
I just hope that'll compensate
For your parents loss
And help with the flow of their day-ta-day
Operations
But some way
It'll be fuckin up their concentration
On your birthday
It should be a celebration
But you 6 feet under
Stuck in permanant isolation
Infinite's changin
His whole attitude's replacin
Now he's Tax, so anxious he's pacin
His heart's racin
He's locked on your ear
And aimed for penetration
Lyrical molestation
These times of tribulation
Have forced Tax to play Satan
This place need savin
From the excess of hatin
So man your station
You best be bracin for impact
Cuz i'm gon react violently
I'mma rap everything but silently
Can't silence me
This hypocracy, rap citys
Forced me to be
The vigilance committee
No more sittin pretty
'The fuck outta here, you can't produce a ditty
When i rap anyone listenin catch colliflower ear
Like Oklahoma City
Their brains crumble, that's just how it is
When you get down to the nitty gritty