Ahh, shit

Joyner!

Yo, nigga′s saying, "What a great battle"

But you about to see a fucking snake rattle

Boy, you just a pony with a pink saddle

I'm truly sorry that you stuck inside of Drake′s shadow

When are you gon' overcome? (Huh)

When are you gon' level up?

When are you gon′ grow another foot? (Huh)

When are you gon′ show us that you number one? (When)

And everything that you accomplished in some years

About to take me just a couple months

Don't you think I′m bluffing neither

I thought you were tougher, eager (Damn)

How you almost signed to Justin Bieber?

You look like a fuckin' beaver (Haha)

Ten years in the game

But yo′ ass still sittin' on the fucking bleachers

Boy, you just another diva (Just another diva)

Heard yo′ grandmama kicked you out the house screaming

"Tory, we don't fucking need you"

Why yo' daddy up and leave you? (Why)

I guess this is how they fucking treat you

And you my puppet, you my Cousin Skeeter

This ain′t what you wanted, they been waiting for it

I′m Joyner Lucas, what the fuck you niggas take me for

(What the fuck)

I pull up in a Demon but I kill Satan for it

If you want attention Tory you gon' have to pay me for it

All these hoes love me but you sucker niggas hate me for it

You roll up on me, catch a shot at ya Mercedes door

The bullets fly, you recline like a La-Z-Boy

All you do is cry, you a child, you my baby boy

You call yourself Tory after The Notorious Big (Yeah)

Biggie turning in his grave when he hear yo′ shit

Don't ever think that you could ever come compare yo′ shit

Little girls and kids only ones who feel yo' shit

I skipped the plaques on my way to a Grammy

All your records soft and sweet, niggas think that you candy

Your niggas really convinced you that you think you can scare me

And you got identity issues, niggas think you a tranny, really? (Damn)

Tory tell us why you always gotta lie in your rhymes (Why)

I know keeping up with lies can get tiring sometimes

You not a G and deep down you wanna hide sometimes

Staring at the sunshine and start crying sometimes

Your real name is Daystar, you been dying to shine

And when you sing you kinda sound like you dying sometimes

You make the type of tracks that had me feelin′ silent inside

Nobody take you serious, put all the violence aside

Okay, let's talk about your plagiarism that you hate to mention (Yeah)

Or talk about the hate you giving to the greats you dissing

(Let's talk about it)

And that writer who wrote yo′ shit

Still ain′t get paid on that "Don't Die" record

You should probably go pay the nigga (Yeah, man)

And how the fuck you talk about Kendrick when he a legend (Huh)

Then go bite the nigga style on your record right at the ending

On "4AM Flex" 2 minutes and 50 seconds

Sound exactly like "The Art of Peer Pressure", go take a listen

You inspired by the niggas you name dropped

Catch fire in the rain, no umbrella to shelter you and no rain drops

When I seen you on Flex, I gave props

But then we found out you stole Don Q shit from the train stop

You thought you were fly ′til the plane drop

Ugly motherfucker tryna stunt in a tank top

It's no wonder why they used to feed yo′ ass with a slingshot

You my son, this the last time I'll give you a Ring Pop

Sit down, you on punishment

And don′t get up until you see me

And don't even think about touching that TV

No more video games, no more phone, no more 3D

No more radio or boombox for your weak ass CD

Matter of fact, give me your chains back and everything I bought you

You a disgrace to this family and everything I taught you

I hate to say it son but you make me sick

I should'a knew you weren′t shit when you came out with a baby dick

It′s no wonder why you pay for pussy

Tory you think you slick

All you do is lounge around the house all day like a lazy prick

Shit, highly disappointed in you son, I need some answers

How come you couldn't follow in my steps and be a dancer?

Or maybe write a book like me or be somebody′s grandpa

Instead you wanna be a fucking rapper with some hair plugs

No more rapping, give me your pen and paper

No more lying to the people on how you the biggest gangster

Now hurry up and get your juicy out the refrigerator

You going to bed at eight o'clock and not a minute later

No, I don′t wanna hear it

No, let this be a lesson

Close your mouth and go into your room like I suggested

I'm a get real Joe Jackson in a second

Matter of fact, give me your toys, I′m adding that to the collection

I just did a show and got it lit ya little nigga

And my freestyles killing your originals nigga

Couldn't name a bitch I couldn't get ya little nigga

You a rebound, even Scottie Pippen know nigga

You ain′t from Toronto, put that on the Bible

I put six hollows in your Ferragamo

Nigga, you from Brampton, go spin the bottle

Bitch I′m from New England, me and Brady in the El Dorado

Now come get on my level, I'm hard as metal

I bomb the ghetto, I brought the shovel

I bury all of you little ninja turtles

You Donatello, you soft as jello

You must be gone off that Amaretto

It′s hard to tell 'cause you soft as pillows

You fucking midget, I call you Willow

I throw you out a fucking car window

I step all over your Margielas, you caught feelings

Yo′ heart spinning, my bars illing

I'm Bob Dylan, I′m John Lennon, I'm authentic

Your bars running no off limits

Don't talk business, don′t talk, listen

I′m off this so you fuck this you fuck! Nigga

What, nigga

Fuck out my face nigga

Ayy nigga look

We gonna get one in, pause

Let's not, let′s not do this back and forth shit no more

I, I think we know what's up, you know

Ha ha ha, Joyner