Diss Track (Visual)

Watch out for the boogey man, he's coming for yo woman
All up on her tip, even though, he know she's tooken
He's scheming watching dreaming wanting in the kitchen cooking
A plot ta steal yo queen, on the side line rooking
Keeping in his pole up in the fishing hole, bet neva hooking
Throwing dynamite, in the water, when no ones looking
"Smiling in yo face" soon as you turn around he jooking
Putting, on a cape, late night rendezvous he's booking
And if ya chick is loyal, that's like fire mixed with oil
His plans will surely foil, and his blood will curl and boil
His pants he'll probably soil, making demands, like he's royal
But he won't get her so he'll throw a temper tantrum like he's spoiled
Dimes he never gets, cuz he got fetishes like foreigners
The only type of tricks that he can pull belong on corners
He's fronting like a mourner, but really just a scorner
If you see him coming, tell ya girl, you should warn her

He ain't coming for ya money
He ain't coming for ya grip
He ain't coming for ya chain
He ain't coming for ya whip
He ain't coming for ya jersey
He ain't coming for ya kicks
He's coming for ya chick
Comin-coming for ya chick..

He's plottin and he's schemin, he's creepin like a stalker
Tryna run shit like Barack, but got game like Baraka
Gettin fresh like Binaca, playin dirty like Tonka
Thinking he smooth like Silkk, but just a Shocker, like Blanka
Every line he spits is cheezy he's a, Velveeta hocker
Fronting like a Big Mac, extra greasy, slick talker
Get her alone in his room he'll try to touch her like a doctor
Hollerin at yo bitch like {O lets do it} Waka Flocka
He a real nigga jocker, on da dick, cock blocker
The secrets out now, like a loose locker
Wonder why they call him a bitch, no 2Pac'a
Shady like Han Solo, with a mouthpiece like Chewbacca
How to lose, he can teach ya like a blackboard chalker
Kicking it a lot and barely ever scoring like soccer
Getting drunk around him that's a Gamble just like Procter
He's a con{Khan}, not like Genghis or Shere, just Chaka

He ain't coming for ya money
He ain't coming for ya grip
He ain't coming for ya chain
He ain't coming for ya whip
He ain't coming for ya jersey
He ain't coming for ya kicks
He's coming for ya chick
Comin-coming for ya chick..

He ain't coming, no no, he ain't coming for ya life
Da boogeyman running up on ya, tryna catch you slipping, and fuck yo wife
Really thinking he has a chance, making his advance, like what's your price
But, when she turn him down, turn around, what's that, in her back his rusty knife
Trust him twice, neva no, if you see him coming, gets ta running
No betta yet, load yo millameeta up, with a full clip, and gets ta bucking
Huffing and puffing, tryna blow your house down, deconstruction
He just mad, cuz 60 seconds in some pussy, he be busting
UUHHHhh... where'd he get his game from, musta been made in China
Cuz he's foreign to the concept of how to attract vagina
Even when he gets a bitch, betta watch yo chick, cuz she'll be finer
He'll wine her, he'll dine her, he'll claim to be a rhymer
Writing poems, like I love the way you let me lick your coochie
Smiling when he sees you, tryna front like hes a groupie
When you turn your back, his hands up on your girlys booty
Point that nigga out, pull his card, he'll be like who, me?