no game

[messenger]

the only heat u packing is the lighter in your pocket,

the only street that cracka seen is sesame so stop it,

me against u is like obama against bush,

talking like a g but aint never seen a hood,

ur a stereotipical bitch that believes rappers have to be gansta,

nah ur just a tipical bitch ull eventualy be dead or in handcuffs,

the big bad cracka from the big bad streets,

with a big bad gun and some big bad beats,

bet u thought with ur lame gangsta shit being signed would be a right ease,

cracka news flash for you n.w.a. broke up in the ninetys,

your talent aint ryhme check the calender cracka it says 2009,

so rethink ur style or i dont mind just keep learning from mine,

but this isnt nursery ryhming okay playground boy,

u aint got a gun u playing around with playground toys,

i think someones a little jealous,

come on cracka u can tell us,

your dissliking,

the fact im prooving ive got better writing,

and what ive written has got this bitch tripping,

scratching his chin thinking,

how can i diss him, how can i diss him,

well cracka listen,

ull never see or have ever seen the life im living,

but it takes a weak writer to always have to sing about things that hes seen,

wheres ur creativity wheres ur originality,

how come all u talk about is how tough u are and guns, wheres ur personality,

always the same old shit just named a diffrent name,

cracka packing the heat cracka runing the game, its lame,

try a little diversity at least once son,

try writing a verse without threatning to shoot someone,

u think stating how many guns u got means truth,

i think ur degrading rap music, a fucking fool. fuck you.

u know me as nameless yeah no name,

and i know u as gameless mr no game,

Edited October 17, 2009 by messenger

[cracka]

man shit was so weak.

n just so u know the reason i talk about gangsta shit is cause i will pop ya bitchass no prob, but dont foget i never claimed im a gangsta just hella harder that you

so one love just suck on a dick or a barrel'

ya rhymes played out like the man will farrel,

you dont seem to get it you lie way to much,

ya words aint a rush thier like an emp-ty dutch

so gone keep in touch with your inner homo

im out on sesame street fuckin robbin elmo

with the words i say preacher like 'o hell no'

watch ya shit split like two pieces of Velcro

.50 cal or 12 gauge bitch thats two ways to go

this shit is a waste cause its gettin us nowhere

you think you so cold but ya somthin like welfare

no spine in ya body you stuck in a wheelchair

lift you by ya feet n hang you over the balcony

u stupid little bitch why the fuck would you be doubting me

understand i aint no punk no way you be pushin me

im pushin weight of the wake n ill leave ya head baked

josh hoyt champaign you comin just to get taped. . up

tossed in my trunk with my subs so u feel the bumb

to a lake till ya dumped with cement shoes on ya shoes

you snoozed on competition now ya missin singin the blues