
FAKE Zoe Pound (crapper)
CASTLE NOBLE: (fake ZOE POUND Diss)
“Multiple Bars Massacre”
(66)
Log in motherf*cker, go ahead punch in ya password/
Forgot how to spell ‘gay rapper’ then b*tch change ya password/
We gonna be past words, wit this shot, so take a long sip/
Cause my flows hot as a Grey-Hound Bus-engine after a long trip/
Castle’s been back on his sh*t, I’m who they heard about/
Ima f*ck-up where your words come out, that’s call word of mouth/
My style’s so pretty, I sit down, and they can’t stand me/
Silky smooth, like good hair, cause I got Indian in my Faaamily/
I’m from the old hood where old wips had them bald-heads/
I’ve always been tall so when I got head, I got some tall-head/
Pocket pistols was a fad, like Hats showing the New Tags/
My first Caddi was clean and shaved bald wit a crush Du-Rag/
What you know about guns; gun-clips; or even a gun-lock?/
Lyrically killin you is like killin time, when does the fun stop/
You had to read your Wack Rhymes last time, damn son stop/
And I Rub-It-In every time it’s hot, just like Sun-Block/
I brought you to this site, catch up you SLOW CLOWN/
Cause one gut-kick will f*ckin miscarriage the ZOE POUND/
You’re a wannabe hot, at home, you can maybe boil/
But here you couldn’t shine covered in Chrome and baby oil/
Fool, you’re clumsy on your feet, ya got a stutter in your speech/
My hot muzzle to ya teeth, you’ll rot and cuddled on the beach/
B*tch I walked you to your car, cause you claim you spark a lot/
But the only thing you peeled or pulled out was the parking lot/
My pictures and lyrics at your Bank would bring favors/
You got me on ya wallpaper, ring tones, and screen saver/
I got Real Zoe Family so I aint dissin the real Zoes/
But rats, p*ssy holes, and fake Zoes I kill thoses/
I’ve shot at Paper targets that’s harder than you/
I know old Ladies at Target that spit harder than you/
If I hit you, you’ll either call the police or you’ll call mother/
Poppin guns? B*tch you aint even poppin a small Rubber/
Stealing 50s rhymes, you’re not an Emcee, you’re a Fan/
You the type to back-up shaking wit a Weapon in ya hand/
You never had a chance, your plan-B needed a plan/
You lost, like when you lost your Virginity to a Man/
Yea, TAMMIE was lovin me, damn, you wanted to “F”-TAM?/
Real women love strong men not queers needing a health plan/
You have no game, playa, you couldn’t even be a Ref man/
You’d get murked at your own Party they’ll call it the Death Jam/
I’ve been killin you so long, b*tch murder’s a habit/
Pullin trick b*tches out the hat, but this trick’s not a rabbit/
I’ve made examples out of you P*ssy, so don’t Push me this year/
Before I piss the whole World off by making P*ssy disappear/
Yeah you! You’re a P*ssy, and your threats are an Erotic Song/
Get a Sex change b*tch, cause ya Doctor done Got it Wrong/
To me gun-blast is elementary, but it still make Fools Surprise/
I’ll make gun-class elementary but kill this fake with School Supplies/
Shove pencils in ya Belly-Button till they come outta ya own Butt-Seam/
This Eraser will Move your Face around like an I-PHONE Touch Screen/
I’m the C-A-crooked letter –T-L-E/
I’ll sandwich you fake f*cka like a BLT/
You got a threat to give me, b*tch fax ya worse/
I want to cash that Wolf-check but I’ma tax it first/
I keep them real tiny guns, like STEPHANY MILLS, they Still Hot/
But my Big guns can blow a hole the same size as JILL SCOTT/
You don’t really want beef, do your Teeth a big favor/
You’re faker than Powdered Soup, you don’t even want Beef-Flavor/
I’m a Savior on this Site, wit a broke mic I’ll turn ya light off/
Invest in Breast implants, cause your male-Titties are a write-off/
Heard Bessie called you man-less, I guess cause you got man-breast/
Big boobs or the Teeny-kind, b*tch got gangsta bikini lines/
You’re about a B-Cup, right n*gga? A push-up Bra can’t stop it/
Choke ya dumb-@ss, wit a cordless phone, so ya Call-Block can’t block it/
When Castle’s off the chain n*gga Master-Lock can’t lock it/
My scope-Rocket will Knock ya Left kidney into ya Right coat pocket/ EASY!!