[Verse 1]

[Verse 1] Yo, Ralph Lowe, who you think you talkin’ to? Spreading bullshit on Facebook like you got a clue. Claiming streets you never walked, battles you never fought, Running your mouth so loud, but you ain't worth a thought. I’m the storm in the booth, the truth that you lack, You just a keyboard warrior, getting ready to crack. Throw your best insults, they bounce like rubber balls, I’m insane this grime, I’m the one who calls. You don’t know my hustle, you don’t know my grind, But you open your trap like you ready to find That real heat, real pain, real bars that sting, Better watch your step, lowe, or I’ll clip your wing. [Verse 2] See, I don’t need no intro, I’m known in these streets, You just a lame-ass punk with some fake-ass tweets. You think you a shot caller, but you ain’t even close, Your words are cheap like a knockoff dose. I’m the real deal, the nightmare in your dreams, You just a side act, lost in your memes. Try to step up, I’ll show you how it’s done, You talk a big game, but you’ll always run. Raphe da hoe, better know when to fold, This ain’t no game, bitch, this is grime cold. [Bridge] You don’t know me, but you wanna throw blows, I’m the fire in the booth, and you just the foe Better keep quiet, let the real ones speak, Or I’ll bury your name six feet deep. [Outro] So next time you wanna talk, better come correct, 'Cause I’m the grime assassin, always ready to wreck. Ralph da hoe, remember the name, remember the show, I’m the one who runs this, now you better blow. Your nose it's a facade, watch me rise as I steal the whole show.