I'M SORRY!

Are you sick of getting lyrically thrashed by a nasty diss? So was I bitches!

I ALWAYS used to get dissed until I started busting out what I like to call “Backums” (“Come-Backs” backwards. I’m clever, AIGHT!) So check these nutty Backums, and next time some wannabe punk-ass playa gets in your grill - YOU LAY ‘EM OUT! AIGHT!

Diss: Your mother works two jobs cause she is a stupid idiot!
Backum: You’re an idiot you fucking idiot!

That will teach that trifling-ass punk. But if they won’t back down, sometimes you gotta get crazy on they ass:

Diss: Yo, you look like a fucking popsicle kid!
Backum: I’ll ram a popsicle up your fucking privates you punk bitch!

Shhhhhnap! Game tight bitch!

So there is your Backums. KNOW NOT TO GET FUCKED WIT KID!

But while Backums bail you out when you’re getting balled on, you can usually avoid the whole situation by coming in talking some smooth-ass gully shit. Check this:

SOME DUDE: Yo, what up dun dunna?
ME: Whack-A-Dilly-Yo!

“Whack-a-dilly-yo” means “what’s up”, but all fresh-like. I call this type of talk “Snollege” cause it’s like knowledge from the street, that you didn’t learn in college.

Whack-A-Dilly-Yo? Best believe kid! How about another? Hootie hootie hootie hootie hootie hootie hoo!

SOME PUNK: What up kicko?
ME: Pi is 3.14 muthafucka!

Fundamentally sound. Ain’t no punky-booster-ass chicken-ass going to fuck with that type science. REAL!

SNOLLEGE! So now you know how to defend yourself against some chicken-ass busters, and you know how to represent so peeps don’t be thinking they can play with your shit.

But “what if”, you’re saying, “what if I gotta roll on some fools?” Fair enough, sometimes you gotta take the offensive. So here it is, some dangerous firepower for your lyrical arsenal:

RUFF AND RUGGED!

ME: You bitch, your IQ number is the same number as my hat measurement: 7 and 5/8ths of an inch you gully chicken-ass!

Wha! Wha-sheeeee-it! Dude just got lyrically incinerated!
If we were playing Sorry I would be saying sorry right now to the poor sucka on the receiving end of that linguistical nuke. Sorry AIGHT!

SORRY, AIGHT!