Carnage - Chaundon, Mag, Emilio Rojas

Listen, I’ll body anybody

Leave anybody that I body needin' antibodies cause I’m not just anybody

I’m somebody to be dissed at all

Laughing at you lames and I’m dancing on your grave like Baryshinikov

Whatever ish you talk I brush it off

Fuck 'em all

You won’t win you got no spin like knuckle balls

You tryin' to treat me like your wallet, you get written off

You only reachin' for me for some money, or a business card

I sic my dogs on you, let 'em sink they teeth in

Until they walkin' from you full and gnawing on your pieces

Emilio the name synonymous with Jesus

Cause you worship every fuckin' piece of ground I put my feet in

Uh, yeah I know I got an ego I’m conceited

I’m the worst thing to happen to rap since Jay-Z quit

You ain’t got no kind of buzz you a secret

Your engineer don’t listen when he mixin' down that weak shit

So keep it to yourself, homie stop the sharing

You a fag, probably dressin' in drag like Donna Karan

And I brag cause the shit in the bag, it’s not apparent

Emilio, Chaundon and Mag, stop starin'

Yeah

Mag nigga

The throne ain’t available

Let it alone nigga, Mag home

Flowin' this religious I get psalms

But stigous, well known I stack digits

Get the gift to spit from my moms

Give me the strength to drop the… lyrical bombs of the son

The Bronx shit I’ve been on

Far from the norm I’m gone

No longer Mag, I’m King Kong

Tryin' to find the one lickin' my letters

Searchin' for the best, follow bread crumbs

Who better find some, there is none

No equivalent I’m too nice nigga

Son is ambivalent for dividends

Mag be on some different shit

From here

Put flare in a snare… there is a difference

What up Tif?

Hater’s won’t get off of the boy dick

So I give it to 'em sicker than HIV

Better to give I heard

So I serve 'em the curb

Y’all rap I’m just better with words

I’m back at it, the chick magnet

Layin' verses and broads down, Mr. Craftmatic

Don’t sleep, victory got’s more than it’s share

Staring down my opponents like they got no business here

Know somebody nicer go and get 'em

Your boy Peter Parker just did a whole mixtape of Venom

A summer blockbuster

The street needed heat cause the lukewarm MC’s LP’s were lackluster

How does it feel knowin' that your very best

Is considered less and will always be second guessed?

To one of my caliber

Metaphorically speaking this is target practice I shoot down challengers

Should’ve had your best on

Aim for the neck and above so it’s pointless for you to have a vest on

Go 'head gangsta, dive run for cover

I’m here with the Get Back Army, Little Brother

You’ll never get next cause we still got now

Forever connected like Al B. Sure’s eyebrow

Earn my respect son, I’m better than the rest

Nickname A-1, no one see me with a check

I used to hate rap until I started my career

Cause it was all the same I needed something else to hear

Y’all know the feelin'

Every rapper’s a hustler, do us all a favor, go back to drug dealing

Ha

Go back to drug dealing