Houston Lyricists - Sketch the Bottom Feeder, K Rino

Unless you say me and K are the best alive

You’re slayin' Sketch’s pride

Your shit is killin' my buzz, like sprayin' pesticide

You swaggin' maggots wanna be fly?

Okay I got you

Pass me by, and I’ll JJ Swatt you

‘Cause my brain just ain’t the same, I’m beyond standard

And I came to change the game, like Deion Sanders

The mainstream ain’t for me, it’s plain corny

They couldn’t fuck with me participating in the same orgy

My bars are so hard biters are losing teeth

And Kevin Banks is on as Dwight Schrute, producing beats

I’m quite rude with my gruesome speech

Watch out for the white dude in the Houston streets

Listen, comin' to me is like dissin' the Missing Link

Y’all are trippin' if you think, you can rap like that too

Compared to mine, their skills with the pen stink

They’re behind with the ink, like a backside tattoo

(Hook x2)

We some dirty South Houston lyricists

You ain’t used to hearin' this, when you heard these sounds, your mind shattered

?

comprehension of our rhyme pattern

These wordy mouths got you losin' spirit quick

(K-Rino)

Hard for me to curve my nervousness

Every single word I spit gets reported to Micro Tech services

Lyin' ‘bout the thing you’ve been involved in

Fool, your job was puttin' jogging suits on mannequins in Target’s men’s

department

I wanna slap your whole rapping circle

My raps’ll hurt you worse than thirty straight bites from an alligator snapping

turtle

If you the greatest, come and show me

Plus I’m so underground, people in my own family don’t even know me

I’ll murk ‘em soon as the bastard see me

I look like a savage genie, wearin' number seven like Dan Pastorini

I don’t think you wanna try my flows

I got a list of lyrics in my library longer than Lady Gaga’s nose

I hate you and your ratchet spouse

Piss me off, I’ll fly over your hood and throw the astrodome at yo' house

All these garbage rappers we ingest

You rappers’ll sleep in a nest of scorpions before fuckin' with me and Sketch

(Hook x2)

(Sketch)

I just finished drinkin' a gallon of bleach and I’m still waiting to die

So I can go to hell and kill Satan

After my daily twelve-pack, I smoke, and do coke

I’m broke, but I’ll sell crack ‘till I’m Bill Gatein'

A pill taken and a blunt smoked, equals a smile

I’ve been deceitful and vile, brutal and evil a while

I wake up taking shots and go to sleep with bum liquor

When bitches suck my dick, I choke myself so I can cum quicker

I won’t be greedy with bullets, I’ll share a gat-full

Make ‘em fly until there’s none left, like pterodactyls

And if a pistol ain’t enough, I’ll adjust

I’ll blackjack ya, pull a twenty-two out and bust

I’ll kill your girl while she’s cooking and make you go to bed hungry

Then grab her deady body and fuck her like I’m Ted Bundy

I’m nothin' but a dirty, rotten, sick twisted bastard

The one and only altar boy that ever molested a pastor

(Hook x2)