Head Punches - K Rino

We gonna call this one Head Punches

But I guess at the end of the day it could pass for a Flow Session

Let’s go

I turbo boost words that shoot, ripping your shirt loose

Your baby mama’s bare feet look like work boots

The fire throat, not a guy that you should try and coach

My quotes are more terrifying than a flying roach

One punch gave that head about fifty knots

My shine is hard to block like Nowitzki’s shot

If you was smart, you’d get out this place

Cause it’s about to get ugly like Donatella Versace’s face

They say that you one of the hardest but I beg to differ

I ain’t impressed, you more trifling than a pregnant stripper

If K-Rino respond to garbage, I’ll mow your lawn

You so boring you could make a dude in a coma yawn

It’s been a while since I let my pen, break a folder

But like a dude who lost a hundred pounds, the wait is over

You’re still young but you’re flow older than Abe Vigoda

Smack you dead in the face with a case of soda

Man, it’s ridiculous to ask you to come and rap

It’s like the ventriloquist sitting on the dummies lap

Your skill will never come close to this

Plus my catalogue’s longer than a section 8 grocery list

I’ma tryna teach you the game, hoping that you learn

You want my crown, let’s go a round like two u-turns

You’re feet ain’t clean enough to run on my turf

You’re house so filthy you could sweep the rug up under the dirt

It’s time to mash so I’m attacking your pad, bro

My lines: so over your head like a bad 'fro

You wanna match, we can each drop 30 racks

And I’ma take you to the cleaners like some dirty slacks

I’m despised by these dishonourable guys

Plus I’m dangerous like raggedy-assed carnival rides

Everywhere I go, people wanna walk with me and trail a pro

But you’re respect is so low that your yes-man even tell you no

I’ll catch you, it don’t matter where the Hell you go

It’s funny cause these clowns is watered down and still fail to grow

See last year you was rocking the masses

Now you in HGB parking lot rounding up baskets

Meanwhile I’m lighting flames, your talent ain’t quite the same

Your rap skills fell off worse than Tiger’s game

Remain cool as I run a sharp pain through ya

I got so much game I’ll sell your own brain to ya

I ain’t forgot what you said, you gon' pay for your hatred

I’ll take the air out of your chest like I play for the Patriots

I turn the heat high as it go, somewhere to burn worse

And put and L on you on you every day like Lavern shirts

I say a lot about myself but I can’t say enough

Cause I’m so real they give me change before I pay for stuff

You on the internet, fronting and dissing like Man

But you just faking, that ain’t you, you catch fictional fans

When I’m really fiending I open up a stranger’s chest

I’ll catch an airplane from South Park to Bangladesh

I pop domes for running your mouth, homes

And your son keep asking your wife how come you got a blouse on

I’m hanging every mic holder, 23 and older

I can’t get high cause I’m addicted to being sober

Doing shows with K-Rino, you need rougher flows

Cause I’ma shut the building down like it ain’t up to code

I stay snapping cause I know that keeps my fans happy

I’ll sell African medallions at a Klan rally

All I see is a bunch of wannabe hot coons

Bouncing on the stage in Peter Pan costumes

I got a pack of mics for rappers who ain’t acting right

And after I beat you to death I might just beat you back to life

I never lose my motivation out on these streets

I’m still hungry like 10 obese people splitting a three-piece

After I spit this, I’ll have to murder the eyewitness

Some of the things I did ain’t even none of my business

I’m in the rafters with hundred, fifty and twenty stackers

I don’t take shit from no one like a friendly jacker

Your punk card I’ll pull yours like a rip chord

While you roaching, I’m holding paper like a clipboard

You know I go hard in the paint till the track dies

So now you fronting like you got help on the back side

You run up on me then it’s slumber time

You could never come behind K-Rino like 8 to the number 9

Like 8 to the number 9, yeah

Sniper, Lil C, K-Rino

We Makin' Enemies everywhere we go

I ran out of flow