dna tru lyricist - rebel xd diss lyrics
[intro: dna]
so this mother-f-cker, rebel xd thinks he’s un-f-ck-witable, huh? saying i’m an eminem rip-off, and that it’s hard for him to be impressed because of the levels he’s reached when it comes to sk!ll? ha, mother-f-cker, this is the apex! i am the last stage, i am the boss! you will fall to my mother-f-cking wrath! let’s go!
[verse: dna]
rebel xd you don’t impress me, test me
and i’ll drag you across the ocean with a turbo powered jet ski
said i’m an eminem rip off? let’s see, you’ll be the next be to put to sleep like narcolepsy in a nest of three infected beasts. shackle while pterodactyl beats give you a hysterectomy to remove the uterus that is useless, b-tch, for what you said to me
i’m dna tru lyricist, i lyrically behead mcs, and any rappers who open their mouth to me are now dead mcs
“let ’em breathe!” h-ll naw, this is strangulation paramount masterpiece theatre we are the one’s who never fell off. who just a selected few but i ain’t saying them all but just know i got k-rino in my corner ready to slay em all
you playing ball? ’cause if so, you step up to the plate, b-tch. while i throw a hyper tapped animatronic orangutang, b-tch. that goes through your back of the glove and catches and exits out his pancreas, hits the lightbulb and causes a power outage in the stadium
the show’s over, no, i mean it over while i flow colder leaving a batch of banana spiders crawling out of your flow folder
i’m about to put a stop to this ignorant fool’s c-ckiness and lock him in a steel light box of green fume like toxicness
there’s a lot of rappers that say they can wreck it, but they’re just talking sh-t. so i drive by these kid’s house and drop em off a box of tricks. they open it up and inside’s a bottomless pit, apocalypse, blowing their skin from their skull showin’ ’em all how hot it gets
(toasty!) dna wins, fatality. now bow to me or be proud to be a victim of my alchemy. we’re about to see if he has the guts to open up his mouth to me. but how’s he gonna do that with my nut-sack in his mouth like ‘deez nuts!’ you can rebel xdeez nuts (ha! goteem!)
sniper rifle spit’ll make him wither when i spot him. shoot him in his arm, then his other arm, then both legs. load the last bullet, pull it, leave the fool with no head (goteem!). i came to infiltrate your system ’bout to snip the wire (snip!). i bet your whole career you always thought your spit was fire. but i coming soon to consume anything you did acquire then i resume to put you inside a human humidifier then imma blow the mist out watch you flow down the b-tch route, i don’t care which route you take it’s time to dip out. if i pull my d-ck out and slap you upside your b-tch mouth. i’m talking hard but i spit hard so sit down
for i go rip ya and rip ya quicker than a hiccup, i’ll stick you quicker than a sick up, i spit to clip verb and give up i rip whoever when i get up or wicked new words i meant the sickest trooper with a victim some you haven’t heard the then some. (then some!) better believe that i’ll be coming to lynch ’em, i’m the henchmen. time for lyrical fencing, with real blades and no body armour when i’m clinching the handle of the samurai inching it deeper into you with an acronym extension. i’ll tell you what rebel xd means if i haven’t mentioned: rapper exerter bullsh-t eternally living in a exile dimension (goteem!). that’s rebel xd for ya, go and see for yourself, but be careful not to let his beef spoil. ya need help? call on dna the mighty for ya, but ya might be warned a hydro mights a be torture
you motherf-cker’s, what? you think this sh-t’s a game? save your youtube comments saying the same old thing. “he’s lame, he sucks, his vocab is basic!” “these rappers have more fame than him, and he can’t take it, he hates it.” “who the f-ck is david? what the f-ck is dna? he calls himself a lyricist? what the f-ck he even say?” “f-ck volume would wreck him, twisted insane would k!ll him, rebel xd would slaughter him.”
then why the f-ck they chillin’? they scared to hop upon the mic, their weakness i’m revealin’. when i’m done with this slaughter, witness the blood on the ceiling…
i’m grabbing a mic and murdering anyone wanting to give it a shot. tickety-tock on the clock, the time’s running out, got about ten seconds ‘fore i box ’em like rocky. step in the ring with a hockey mask on my face and machete, it’s about to get sloppy. hack your -ss in half, then i laugh with the j-panese people, we sippin’ some sake. you’re trippin’, you’re probably better off tossed in the ocean with squid and tilapia, n0body can stop me, i’m sorry, but pardon me, my artistry is way too intricate to copy
i hit ’em with a little bit of sentimental monumental, dedicated time when i rhyme on the instrumental. you don’t really wanna get to f-cking with the way i put it down in my town. i got the mind of a sentinel, we are not identical, i am the dna, tru lyricist rip this b-tch, tisk-tisk, rip ’em to tidbits, slip in the slick sh-t, made a list sicc sicc, madesicc siccness
rebel xd, i know you’re probably thinking you’re one h-ll of a g, i’m telling you please don’t believe the hype on the mic, i’ll leave holes in you like swiss cheese. b-tch please, you ain’t got no true wordplay, it gets knocked over by a stiff breeze. to enter my level you’re gonna need a retinal scan, dna sample, and six keys, a nifty lock-picking device and thirty-six dobermans to sick me. i’m done with this mother-f-cker, it’s time for him to prove he’s a real mc. b-tch, i’m out!
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