On The Edge (Azealia Banks Diss)
Rose up from the bottom of the pump like a fleshligt
And all you weezy bumb bitches got your chest tight
Weak bitch you couldn't beat me with your best might
Im burning rubbers on hoes with the condom over least
Hold up, I'm busy killing these bitches if not that,
Then Im giving them stitches
I'm burning them down
Them I'm cutting these bitches,
If they talk shit then I'm kicking they lips in,
If you talk shit then I'm kicking your lips in,
They trippin' with blunts, they literally spittin'
I'm all in your face: I've got something to spit in
Hold up, wait
Time for recollection
If rap is crucified, bitch I'm the resurrection
The best kept secret
You is in discretion
I'm here to fucking teach em', you the fucking lesson
You and me a wild fire to a matchstick
I'm a fucking problem, you don't wanna add this
You don't wanna add this
Better yet go run your suns and your bag bitch
Every time I hear that part I'm gonna die of laughter
Oh wait, wait, I was the first person to hear "Succubi"
Oh whatever the fuck you called that weak ass diss to Jim Jones
You know when you had bitches up in your hood trying find dirt on you?
Or like the time you were the studio with Missy Eliot
And she was scared to be in the studio with you, remember?
Bitch I'm from the 313
Whip the fuckin' meat cleaver out like who want beef
What the fuck you gonna do with this Diplo flow?
Diss you on own your shit
You should dip low ho
I bet you won't leap
You frog ass bitch
Pussy ass Courage the Cowardly Dog ass bitch
Or like when you were texting me about Kreayshawn, remember?
"Let's steal her fans, we're not really friends with this bitch"
And I was like "Oh ok, we're all good."
Bitch, I got ammo on you
Bitch, you don't want war
But we're just gonna tell what happened when we were together
I was in the City,
Chillin' with a bum bitch
Who was on Twitter,
Talkin' like she run shit
You was in my text
Looking for some pity, bitch
"I'm at the bar alone
On some Sex in the City shit,
My boyfriend left me
My heart finna' break"
Bitch, you be fucking niggas on they oxygen tank
Shit, I be making moves, bitch
Plotting my fate
Looking at you wack hoes like who's spot should I take
Wait: Rocawear, Rainbow
Now you're on your Wayne shit
Rapunzel goin' be missing like her edges and her bangs is
Really, I was hoping you would clap first
But either way I'mma goin' give you that work
I'm the one everybody say you can't be
You know it too, cause I'm the only one ain't tweet
Nappy-headed Chia pet
Ghetto fucking Easter Bunny
Eat up every track
That's an OJ: munchie
I'm like genuinely laughing on this shit
That's why she doesn't really talk much
Cause like I just want you to have the balls to respond to me, bitch
Don't tell me when you're going to London for a month
Don't say "Oh, your so..."
Wait, wait, wait, wait, I see you hung out with Paul Epworth
Did he play you the track that I ripped?
Did he play your style that I stole, bitch?
Give me the beat
Let me work that bass
He played that for me, I didn't like it
Bitch put an album out
I think my album's more done than yours
And I just started a week ago
You out here sleeping on studio floors
Wasting money on Digi-videos and Photoshop
Stop it, bitch