Moment of truth

Here we go again
Prepare to meet your end
Just looked you up on Facebook
You have zero friends

This kid's a loser
You haven't even kissed a girl
You write her love letters
I'll buy her ice and pearls

So how you like me now?
Even Roxanne is in the background
Saying "Wow, Bling's got style"

I'm off the gold chain
If you a rapper then why is Kris your backup?
Dancer like an ex from Soul Train

I see your mommy and your daddy in the front row
They must be embarrassed for you bro
You're not a real MC
You should quit hip hop
Now be a good busboy and go get your mop

Tyler James Williams:
Bling, you don't wanna battle
You're the snake without the rattle
You're the boat without the paddle
You're the duck without the waddle

You're the horse without the saddle
The ranch without the cattle
The day without the shadow
Son, I think you should skedaddle

King Grapple
Sayonara punk
Arrive Derci
What language do I have to say
For you to hear me clear-ly?

Adios, amigo
You're over with finito
This clown couldn't wrap anything
But my burrito

Brandon Mychal Smith:
You have to hold your mommy's hand
Before you cross the street
You have to sneak out the house
Just to clean and sweep

And now you look queasy
I made him go mute
Put your camera phones up
So you can post this on YouTube

Truth's got a screw loose
He's terrified to bust
So lightweight
That I could blow him over with a gust

You're weak like Seven Days
You deserve boos
You should walk around in some high heel shoes
Shoot

You should rock pigtails and a skirt
You're shakin' in your boots
Are your feelings getting hurt?

Oh, well, maybe I should hurt
More than your feelings
Maybe I should rip
The roof off the theater ceiling

Maybe you should start nailing
As I the Great Misty
You're so whack
If you were me, you couldn't diss me

Kissy, kissy, Roxanne
Did you miss me?
I'll take you out to dinner
After I've eaten this pipsqueak

And when we're on vacation
I'll let him house sit
Here's a couple bucks
Buy yourself a better outfit

Tyler James Williams:
You know what?
You don't have a stack of cash
Or a flashy pad
I saw you last week drivin' a taxi cab

Your secret's out and now they know, sport
We'll call if we need a ride to an airport
In fact, you could drop me off at home after this
Then, you could take your couple bucks back, but as a tip

You playin' everyone like solitaire
Tellin' everyone, let's hear that you're a millionaire
You're not a baller, you're a phony
I'll bet your whole crew, was a bunch of Rent-a-Homies

And now you lie in bed lonely
Your persona's a facade
The only girls you get
Are in the pages of a catalog

Here stands Lord of the Bluff
His lies were legendary, till the truth made him hush
And what's funny is your truth is enough
Why'd you have to make up the money and the stuff?

I guess it's easy to play the role and act hard
'Cause you don't have the guts to tell us who you really are
So you can keep a trophy that you don't deserve
I might be a busboy, but you just got served