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lirik lagu game over – bi bap chang

[intro]
go crazy ahh, go stupid ahh
i’m sorry mario, i warned you
danny goin’ crazy on the beat

[verse]
go apes, i’m pullin’ out the j-pes
you probably hate my music, but you’ll eat it up like crepes
all about the feng shui, does the carpet match the drapes?
never made a bad song for the record, check the tapes
here’s a plate, you look like you could eat
you’re a skinny little kid, and you’re garbage on the beat
so i’m taking out the trash, and i’m coming with the heat
this’ll only take a minute, rest your feet and have a seat (umm)
i don’t really ask for much, but lord for this christmas
no more songs from kid king, that is all for my wishlist
every time i hear his voice it’s like i’m growing a cyst
if he disappeared forever i know he wouldn’t be missed
i enlist in the army of ending your career
there is nothing you could say that i would ever want to hear
you’re frickin’ weird (weird)
that’s what chance would say
but he is too afraid of your one-man pride parade
go away!
i never wanna look at your bug eyes, wack t–th, or sombrero-shaped nose
that’s how it goes from your from ohio
a place that’s only known for lebron and potatoes
after this track i know you’ll be retreating
i can tell just by your afro, your hairline is receding
your rhymes are all dumb, all your freestyles are repeating
it’s probably a side effect from “ween” that you’ve been eating
this ain’t a series, but even if it was
you’d still be getting swept like i’m pulling out the rug
i got a question, you ever had a hug?
which one of your dads do you give the father of the year mug?
adhd kid, start taking your meds
if you come in the cage, i’ll still be leaving you dead
and your hairline looks like it goes so far back
it’s probably only coverin’ three-fifths of ya head
you’re not in my league, not even playing the same game
you’re lame, your t–th look like they’ve been hit by a train
act insane because you want some buzz for your name?
but have you ever tried being good at something for once?
you and me have a fair beef? not likely
‘cuz your voice sounds like 4 little girls, spike lee
and you clearly have add mr. hyphy
you’re all out of 1-ups bro, no life-y
hear here, the end is near
if i haven’t made it clear, this little rat should live in fear
i’m controlling the pace, put the flow right into gear
you’re still schooled, boy (man of the year)
you call yourself a sneaker-hear, your shoes all made for kids
right now you in a pickle jar, i’m putting on the lid
if you were actually smart you would have gone and hid
but now you’ll be another little pr-ck i’ve gotten rid
i’m a gravedigger, and i got one left for you
right by the other soundcloud rapper that’cha knew
i think his name’s malik, but i don’t really care
i hate to beat a dead horse, but man look at’cha hair!
treat my friends like my enemies, i always keep ’em close
you got left in the oven man, you’re way past toast
eastside or westside, i don’t really care which coast
i know you think i’m playing games so i’ll eat this pacman ghost
only thing soft about me are my hands, but not you
‘cuz your hands are full of ash, and my hands are full of cash
yo you barely made a ripple, when i spit i make it splash
know i’m only half white, but i’m coming with the lash
you’ll pull up on my block, but you’ve never seen a gun
this diss is almost over and i’ve a ton of fun
before this song began i knew i already won
but you did teach me two dads are better than none

[outro]
i’m just playing
you know i love you, mario

- bi bap chang

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