tht wasnt rap in them nine bars u claimin u flamed on//
if the is tha best u can come up wit maybe u should've stayed gone//
my hard-rock cold-flow will make yo wack shyt plumit//
and i'll turn yo crew on u like ugly hoes do stomaches//
u really want it? gitchu for yo watch like a time tracker//
yo rhymes is backwards, but i'll still crack yo head like a line backer//
yeah my name is Droopy, and not thtchu care//
but i got it from smokin trees, while u smokey tha bear//
yo shyt was corny like tha 3rd "Bring It On"//
plus i seen better punch lines at a high school prom//
u mr. me too tha way u try to bite my shyt//
but on tha real im like Pharrel the way i ride wit clips//
u like my shyt? yea i would too if i was u//
if u dont u stuck on stupid like crazy glue//
u crazy: true. u a problem child wit no troubles//
a lost cause plus i just burried u wit no ******** math, if it dont make dollars it dont make sense//
but here's one: u keep hangin wit 9 broke niggas u'll be tha 10th
you see that you see that s**t thast that grade A ultimate fighter type s**t killer KO for my boy droop