S.R.K - Cheap bars

Beat Maker Challenge https://suno.com/song/bb28d3a0-b33f-41fe-8257-55cc9d09e51b [Prelude] Wait a minute, wait a minute Hol, hol, hold up a minute I'mma let dis beat heat Let it breathe, let it kill it. Wit a flick of mah wrist U bums dismissed, Outtie, foh' da streets (Bye bye bye, shitty, itty-bitty opps!) [Verse 1] Like cheap copies 'n' golddiggaz Zero street knowledge 'n' dope figgahz I'mma put dis rite here. You slo slum bums speak profits with bold scriptures. But couldn't write a hard baR wit the hard R to save yo life (Whaddup nyggahs!) Meanwhile, I'm rite here, beatin' my PR Witout da help of TARS, you kidz shoudda kept watchin’ Tarzan You ain't William, dis ain't Braveheart And u 'n' yo shit, gonna cave hard. Look at me, killin’ ’em, spillin’ 'em A.I rhymes within yo lines, (haha) funny times. (Brilliant!) [Hook] Opps, opps, opps why u frontin', dude? U so slo 'n' mellow, nevvah ran from cops Prolly shit yo pants wen bein' told. I bet u fold when it’s time to box. Ricki-tikki-torch, lickety splitt Ricki-tikki-torch, wickedly lit I'll verbally stab ya, make ya cease to exist Drop a few bars, have ya pleadin’ like this "OH MY GOD, PLEASE STOP THIS, I CAN’T HANDLE!" Oh!, ooh okay ramble, Rambo Lemme juss dismantle 'n' sneeze ya out like a season man cold. Aaah-choo! Bitch be-GONE! Poof! [Verse 2] Dis be is proper rap boi Dis be S.R.K, who's toyin'? Done enuff wit ya bois Larpin’. U fools 'round wit sheisty rhymes I see A.I as a tool. You let it write every line. (Oof!) Duffle-duffle-dufflebags full of truffels (cash!) Wen I shuffle mah lyrical wisdom From tussles to flex my verbal muscles. U 'n' yo posse can't fit in mah kingdom. C'mon, c'mon fucking bring some! (Yawn...) Nah dude, you fuckin’ lost me. I'd rather get a hard-on for a bossy bitch Dat be true to it Rather than fakin' to get rich Wit poor drip. [Hook] Opps, opps, opps why u frontin', dude? U so slo 'n' mellow, nevvah ran from cops Prolly shit yo pants wen bein' told. I bet u fold when it’s time to box. Ricki-tikki-torch, lickety splitt Ricki-tikki-torch, wickedly lit I'll verbally stab ya, make ya cease to exist Drop a few bars, have ya pleadin’ like this "OH MY GOD, PLEASE STOP THIS, I CAN’T HANDLE!" Oh!, ooh okay ramble, Rambo Lemme juss dismantle 'n' sneeze ya out like a season man cold. Aaah-choo! Bitch be-GONE! Poof!