bitch I heard you talking shit

Bro What the Fck Yo, you trippin’, talkin' ’bout my fuckin’ mom, Claimin’ you’ll hit it, bro, that shit's hella wrong, Flexin’ on the gram, but you ain’t got no brawn, You a soft little bitch, man, your ass don’t belong. Pull up to my block, thinkin’ you a big shot, But you just a clown, man, your game’s all forgot, Ain’t no respect, you just livin’ in a plot, I’m about to drop bars, tight like a juggernaut. Bitch, you took my phone, like what the hell is that? You think you run the game? Nah, you just a brat, I’m ballin’ in my zone, fight me, and I’ll react, This diss track comin’ hot, put your ass on the mat. You actin' all tough, but your words don’t hit, Claiming that you savage, but I’m calling your bluff, In my city, we don’t play, we just rise up and spit, Got my crew behind me, we relentless, no quit. Wanna talk about moms? Better think twice, I’ll cook you like a chef, serve you up with some spice, Your whole flow’s a mess, better roll the right dice, When I drop this track, man, you’ll pay the price. Thuggin’ through my hood with the real ones, no fakes, You out here playing games, but I’m raising the stakes, You thought you went hard? Man, you ain’t made mistakes, This a lesson for you, put you back in your place. Chicago’s where I’m from, we don’t play with no lames, Keep my circle tight, and we don’t fuck with your names, You ain’t ready for this heat, better step out the flames, Bro, what the fuck? You just lost all your claims.