Yo, I’m in my own category, y’all ain’t even subsets
I’ll crush a hundred MCs who’ve yet to read my subtext
Who’s up next? Wassup, we having fun yet?
I’ll bust a funky rhyme and then I’ll ride into the sunset
Like an easy rider driving a motorcycle
Vibing to Steppenwolf and Creedence Clearwater Revival
I am not a mortal man, damn, I sort of am-
Like a demigod making your bod contort
Can you relax with that fuck shit, Jack, we just discussed this
You’ll get busted cause this cat’s just too disgusting
Trust him, he hasn’t told a lie in his life
Aside from sliding out the house to go and lie with your wife
Twice the man that you’ll ever be, raised with the recipe
Rest in peace to my grandmother Beverly
It’s that champion style bloodline, I’m just fine
I make clouds cover sunshine when I bust rhymes
Y’all precipitate, I mean the ladies get wet
I make lakes and rivers of fake MC sweat
Blood and tears, piss and vomit, shit is toxic
Verbally stomping opposition, kid, so quit your talking
And box out cause I be crashing the boards
I’m outside of the box when I’m attacking the horde
Of wack rappers, backpackers, emo pussies
Mad hatters, feeble rookies, like Black Sabbath-
You’re paranoid, It’s the planet caravan
I’ma show these war pigs the interplanetary man
Fairies wear pricey kicks, shit is frickin’ beautiful
I’m tearing up the stereo at your electric funeral
You should know when to go and when to stay
If the microphone’s smoking, don’t hold it to your face
It’ll burn you, leaving your kisser with charred gristle
You think you’re hot until Jarv gives you scar tissue
Diss you? Please, I don’t need to cause you’re boring
I hope your seed knows he’s leaving the show an orphan
If it’s sunny and you see me, it’s immediately pouring
I leave MCs rockin Aquaphor and Neosporin
Shit yo, how this cat so tight, kid
My rap style’s sharp as that exacto knife is
That you used to draft that phony rap stencil
Stop it or I’ll stab your esophagus with a pencil

Cause I don’t like what I’m seeing
Outta y’all ordinary human beings
Y’all oughta quit rap and go to sleep
I’ma rhyme until I die and I ain’t tryina keep it brief x2

I’m slashing up the track crafted by Pajama Sam
When I see your mom, I’ll offer that slag a mammogram
Trust me, y’all could never bust like this
I hold the hoe’s tit with a cobra clutch type grip
I might flip my lid like a Canadian in South Park
Then cover up your style with a half gallon of Valspar
How far can he take it? How far?
It’s evident that y’all don’t know a thing about Jarv
Because I’ma flow forever, I’m dope, clever and wordy
You wanna get a verse, but you will never be worthy
If I don’t make it big, well shit, I ain’t worried
Cause if I ain’t in your top five, then you ain’t never heard me
I’m lickin’ a shot quick, then runnin’ across the baseline
Your mom showed me her twat when I talked to that bitch on FaceTime
It was disgusting, the shit was hella foul
But I don’t give a wiggy-wiggy-what now

Cause I don’t like what I’m seeing
Outta y’all ordinary human beings
Y’all oughta quit rap and go to sleep
I’ma rhyme until I die and I ain’t tryina keep it brief x2