Mbs’ Lighter Challenge

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(Intro)

Mbs

Y’all ain’t shit

Claiming Your shit is lit

Y’all got no heat

I’ll blow Y’all out like matchsticks

And fuck this Lighter Challenge

This is heat from Hell’s furnace, bitch!!!

(Verse)

Here’s the reason You didn’t

Hear My Voice since

It’s cause I was hidden in the evil

Part of Your conscience

The Devil’s pleading

‘Please reason with Your audience

Be reeling in a Milli sinning as My fucking offsprings’

Don’t be scared, come closer

I just want to burn some bread

Like Your toaster;

But cut Your heads with My Sonar

Then score more deaths than Ebola

A sun that gets paid

To emit fucking death rays

The kind of messed case

To arrive with a First Aid;

Slice Your Brains with, Knives

Then take Your, Mind

Your Babes with, rhymes insane

My Favourite games are laboured wordplays:

You kids spit shit

Speak with deep pits

Twist shit with sweet bits

But this G will still be

At the top of the weak

Like it’s freaking Sunday...

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