These Mumble Rappers

Rest in peace Mac Miller
This is for the love of hip hop and battle rap
We gotta keep it alive
Dear Colson, I wrote you but you still haven’t posted
The only time you rocked a Full House was when you were an Olson
But anyways, fuck it man
How’s your little daughter? (how she doin')
Hopefully not getting involved in needles like her drug addicted father (whoops,
oh shit)
I’m on another «plane»
I’m so awoken
You tryna emerge and see, but crash
You’re Sully chokin'
And when I’m home alone bitch
You’re still Macaulay Culkin (KEVIN!!!)
I’ll march with the NRA to have this Machine Gun Kelly broken
Tough little pistol Kelly, shit I’ll fist you so hard 'til I hit your belly
This dude is anorexic, someone get him a sandwich
Mixed with jelly
I’m not even pissed, no really
I’m ballin' like a disco, silly
Those jabs you missed though, Nelly
I’m comin' for your wrist, throat Kelly
Come at me dawg, I’m sick, polio
These hater’s are all liars
Coming out the woodwork like Pinocchio
I hate these mumble rappers
They go «da da da di»
Catch me in a Maserati (skkkrrt)
Or a fucking Bugatti
That I don’t own
I rent, to be somebody
I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)
I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)
Little Yachty, I’ma Jambaddi
OK, I’m getting sidetracked
Back to Kelly, the fake Machiavelli (what's up?)
Bandana around your throat
Just fucking do it
Hang yourself stupid
And Logan Paul will take a pic
Jump off the roof, and finally make a hit
You’re Shady’s bitch, about to get smoked like a Jamaican spliff
This square’ll get chopped up into bacon bits
Ahhh what was I sayin'? shit
Oh yeah
I wanna let people know this
That I’ve noticed
The comments, that I’m a Shady clone
And that I believe that I am him, and I’m with Kim
And I’m delusional…
There’s something you should know
I’m not a lunatic, I just knew this shit
That I used to get
Myself exposure and it worked
I’m on the news and shit
You’re laughing at me, while I’m here laughing at y’all
Talking shit behind the computer, surrounded by walls (you're a tough guy)
And I’m getting paid, probably fuckin' your bitch
That’s why she doesn’t answer your calls
So fuck you, fuck all of y’all
I hate these mumble rappers
They go «da da da di»
Catch me in a Maserati (skkkrrt)
Or a fucking Bugatti
That I don’t own
I rent, to be somebody
I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)
I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)
Little Yachty, I’ma Jambaddi
Marshall is taking too long
Time for the Stans to unite
To stand up and fight
Raising the standards
Like I am in Stanford
For every stanza I’m planning to write (uh)
I can walk on water
But still standoffish
You understanding my lines?
Dismantling mics, with candles to light
This Ouija board we handle tonight (oh shit)
The Rap Devil’s getting baptized
The power of Jesus compels you! (uhhuh)
Sike! If anything needs to be exorcised on this guy it’s a muscle (damn)
Like Bachir’s mum, son
We getting ready to start a Dizaster
I’m wiping away you scum chunks
Like switching a carbon reactor
Y’all ain’t shit but a cum dump
See man, I’m trashing this (w)rapper
But we know this don’t actually matter
This is just the calm before Marshall get’s at ya (again)
Bitch wait, you’re a shit stain
Are you pussies mad at this clickbait?
Fuck it, I’ll stick the tip of my dick into your chick
'Til the clitoris rips into a million bits
And the shit breaks
Yo, who the fuck is that?
I dunno, let me check
«Yo, what up? It’s Kells. Cleveland!»
Yo, throw a beat on
Ok
«Uh, yeah, hand me the clippers
His beard is weird» Clippers?
Uh, yeah. What?
And a black shevel
Shevel? Don’t you mean shovel?
No, I mean shevel, yeah. Ummmm…
Where’s the autotune at? Ok…
Yeah, yeah, I’m sick of them sweatsuits
And those corny hats, let’s talk about it
I’m sick of eating food, and when I see a dude
I just walk around it (Kells, Kells)
I’m sick of being a stick and feeling like shit
But I’m still Kelly
So much seamen inside of my belly
And now I am feeling it swelling
Damn, shut up you hella thin skeleton
You’re just an irrelevant elephant
In the room, soft as watermelon gelatin
Gone off the deep end, like Louise and Thelma did
Looking like an alien, local like a L.A.N
Where is Chris Hansen when we need to catch a man who’s been
Dangling his teeny little weenie
On the 'gram again, no wonder Mashall’s panicking
You’re gonna get hammered in
Switch
Keep screwing around you might be the
Dumbest motherfucker since Justin Bieber
Or Logan Paul when he tried to tweet a
Diss up against Chris D’elia
This over-tatted, bony bastard’s looking like some molten plastics
Thinner than the strings of woven baskets
Hopeless Codeine addicts
Homeless Brad Pitts
Looking like a Nazi who would vote for fascists
Dome on acid, go, go, gadget
Straight into a closing casket
Collecting heads like Sleepy Hollow
Y’all don’t know me but you need to follow
Eminem’s the G.O.A.T. and Kelly is dope
But both will overdose
And not see tomorrow
Damn, that’s a hard pill to swallow
I’m in the car now and I killed the bottle
Tekashi in the trunk
Lil Yachty in the front
And I’m driving drunk
Into the wall, bro (nooo)
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen for listening
Sincerely, Stan
I hate these mumble rappers
They go «da da da di»
Catch me in a Maserati (skkkrrt)
Or a fucking Bugatti
That I don’t own
I rent, to be somebody
I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)
I don’t knoooow (Lil Pump)
Little Yachty, I’ma Jambaddi