BET Backroom Freestyle

[Intro: Stefan Ponce]

Yo, I’m Stefan Ponce

You in the backroom with Vic Mensa

Haha Rap City shit

[Verse: Vic Mensa]

*Laughter*

This man is obviously a psychotic

INNANET

This is another one to compare me to

Before you side by side in that head-on collision

Feel the impact like a flat-bed to a caribou

My dear, you’re roadkill

I’m cold-blooded, Mike Tyson can’t hit me, I’m Holyfield, oh

Pee on your Q&A, fuck your questions, fuck suggestions

I don’t need help, motherfuck your

Chain, tuck your chest in

Sink your bones in the ocean, choke, you under pressure

G snatch your strap, let you buyback your gun collection

Shoot it in your vein, deadlier than a blood infection

Contractually contracting me would have to be dumb high

Blow the blessing permanently in the smoking section

Hold your breath in, kid, know your lines ‘fore you overstep ‘em

Hmm...I let you scheme on a rhyme scheme

Wet your ‘sace shirt, get your blood-stains dry-cleaned

Pokin’ the industry without a Jimmy Iovine, I’m going raw

You could feel it like a pill thats spoon-crushed

Melt on your gums like ice cream

I’m type O, anyone could get it if you with it, wilt with the pipe dreams

They say the INNANET got the Internet tweakin’

You twit con, comicon commenters deleted

I see your weakness, achilles heel in your feet its orthopedic

I’m bulimic I can’t stomach your image I make you eat it

Yack and feed it back, salty season

UV me need sunscreen, your tone hardly even

Obviously it’s a problem if you questioning if I'm the answer, run and play

Dog I’m in the field like a summer dance

The son of Sampson, dread head fooly in the dark

Catch a clip, it could really be a movie in the park

I’m psycho how I hitchcock the automatic rifle

Just so you don’t get the wrong message like a typo

I might not sign no deal unless they up a mill

And multiply it by a few, forreal

Fuck all the glamors and glitz, I plan to get rich

I’m from Chicago, but never been a fan of your platinum hits

I could care less than a high school lunch lady with her hair net

Teared up puttin’ pubes in your pear cup

Yo, the young blood bleed bluer than Ivy

If Lil Wayne came and kidnapped her out her high seat

Pass the baby to Baby to change the diapy

While Jay Z chase her down on a Samsung Galaxy

Hi C, orange soda sippin’ old Corolla whippin’

Treat your chick tonsil like a orphanage to hold my kids in

Raah raah like a dungeon dragon

Son, change your little hustle ‘cause your funds is lackin’

See, my pockets empty, my nerves antsy don’t try to tempt me

I set fire to Fort Knox to foreclose Daddy Warbucks for the war on drugs

If you hatin’, you stab yourself in the foot

Split your soul like a horcrux

I could board a flight just to change the seasons overnight

You boys bark ain't known to bite

My niggas’ll run in your crib, flood your basement

Leave you leakin’ like a broken pipe

Poke your wife on the table like salt, pork, and rice

I never swipe my Chase card, everything paid for

Your petty funding from your little label

I need the hotel, the flight, the car, the room service

The check on the PJ in the jet with the fuel burnin’

Gas in the rental with my bitch with the wheels turnin’

Spinnin’ like Sprewell, if you want it come and prove to me

This is a message for anybody who listenin’

I’m Vic Mensa, pay your toll or pay attention

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