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letra de october freestyle - stark of huey

1994 he was born. popping up on ya like internet p-rn
bringing heat while you n-ggas luke warm
ain’t no time to hash it out. never beef with a corn
how these rappers sending shots but never score?
guess it’s written for the opps to miss when i transform
i ain’t in my prime yet, i’m still going
all the bumblebees got my name buzzing in the swarm

look

keep thinking it’s honey sweet. a hunned g’s in my unit if you getting buck like bunny t–th
a martian when i march in, i don’t come in peace
you sub par when you sub stark, so you under me
my punchlines like lunch to a buch of hungary kids
i told you i’m on ya heels, the sk!lls undefeated
my foot notes got you twitter fingering, lingering
speaking before you think, you been internet trolling under thee bridge
i might open 8 golden gates. hold up, wait. that’ll make me rock lee, suiting up for golden state
ya bae watching me like h-sselhoff, i know you hate
fill ya up with shots from the nine, now you overate
i’m seven seconds from severing off the head of a hecklers. wait. lemme quit. now i’m sounding sick
plus, this line should have been about the number six
five out of four people can’t interpret what i spit
make that a percentage, i’m 20 more than a hunned
but i been over the numbers. my cup? over it runneth
running the game, chasing a ring, n-gga i’m sonic
set up shop in seattle while watching tons of the money
that n-ggas claiming they making like i don’t know they be stunting
fronting is in ya genes. that means you a square like punnet
prolly punt kick a n-gga then leave his brain in his stomach
so you can see his thoughts come up whenever he vomit

should i stop, or should i write more. i swore, i would play the game until the day i beat the high score
i did that, then went on to do it five more times. so divine, man i’m low-key feeling like thor
i’m your, neighborhood dope sh-t dealer
don’t get realer
only eat the beat if it’s fresh, like the b-ss mint; no big tigga
spit it with a cold to show the flow gets illa
k!ll a… weak emcee for the sacrifice. quit acting like i can’t close lines; i’m a acolyte
outta view like goldberg, still in the cut like a jack-a-knife
a big fire spitta. charizard or a dragonite
show me what you rapping like. i rap a lot. you rappers just cap a lot
yo powers from capsule corps. mine is more kakarot
tryna figure out if what you saying really facts or not
you ain’t even in my sp-ce. that make you an astro-not
i could have yo spot, if it was high enough. why fight with n-ggas who still using dial up?
you ain’t well connected. you ain’t special. you ain’t fly as us. you ain’t going nowhere like a car that had the tires cut
you gone need a new inner tube. any dude doubting what my pen’ll do get turned into dinner food
i ain’t gotta mention you in a interview. pittsburgh fan or stiller, boy you been a fool
i get in the stu, spit a few or hit a tune, and diminish ya whole album down to an interlude
any emcee or instrumental can get abused. i don’t wanna injure you. n-gga this the end of you
get a clue. how my enemies get split in two as soon as i walk in a room. you can call that sh-t introduce
every rap n-gga’s a god til they run into zeus

and i-

f-ck

look

the diagnosis determined that i’m the dopest. all the smoke you blowing, it really ain’t half as potent
see, you must hang with lames that never told ya, the flow can fast forward and leave ya with broken focus
call that ho-
f-ck. quit f-ckin’ playing with me with this rap sh-t

- stark of huey

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