QB Duckin

oka oka what am I suppose to do sit back and watch fake ass rappers try to rule this game the sport I play I hold my lance out and knock you off your horse and force my way into the party sending these top tiers battle raps and watch em be a bitch and no clap backs guess you like studio rappers making bangers and strange to faces when they come out the rain and start framing the picture you thought you knew while everyone's sitting around lying to you.its so vain..come on...its just me in my crew I been thru so much ya'll don't have a clue..I never massed tag I earn my stripes by two without you I'd have nothing but a m.c. throwing life lines..Ahh..I'll let drown for a few before I choose your destiny and it ain't rap and the problem is your view no imagination to hold a microphone and let go off everything you once knew...you make hooks and rap with people worst then you..I got quickbars so large they getting featured must be the next Ja Rule..You sold your soul..I pull thru this canvas and drain your blood to write like it's old school ink trickling down rapper off sound..homeward bound when I step up in this from a pounce..all this time waiting for a moment and I come up running biting clawing to get to a hold up..put your hands up emcee feel free I lift your value right before you and leave you dangling from the microphone to the ceiling..set the roof on fire..leave the lighter and gas to follow you back to the beginning of rap..its time for this all to crash the house of hip hop especially this app..ya'll blow smoke but can't hang when I'm two tougin all smoked out I blow the chest out..back to back..the vests out in props staging your demise with a simple count...one two..one two..its so easy even a battleme rapper can follow too left this unscruffed so raw your nose starts bleeding you been touched by the one and only Donny B..no hooks for the moment..I ain't quickbars..I give a performance