[Intro]
Uh huh
Shit ain’t even close to over motherfuckers
Y’all better know not to fuck wit G-G-G-therz

[Verse 1]
Back again with no remorse, I am prepped to go to war
Beware of this warning shot 'cause I don’t know who told ya broads
That you can fuck with my fucking lyrical dexterity
When right in this moment all ya bitches should get scared of me
It’s just insulting to say you’re my competition
Y’all fake pussies, in other words, all you twats are fiction
I’m the only one with true passion for rapping while you only care ‘bout dollar signs
And I bust it like a chopper like the name of the gun they used in Columbine
But ya punks don’t know what you're playing with when trying Rye
Try to gas me, bitch I’m as dangerous as cyanide
Somebody better go out there and make these frauds aware
That I’ll take these suckers out like O’Reilly off the air
But don’t judge me man, you ain’t got a gavel
Yeah I’m in Garden State, surrounded by some rotten apples
I’m an asshole, gotta hassle, this ain’t time to play
When I’m aiming at ya punk motherfuckers to annihilate

[Bridge]
Step back and put the mic down
Step back and put the mic down
Step back and put the mic down
Uhh… let’s see who want it now

[Verse 2]
Cooking up some compositions good to fuck up competition
'Cause kids in town think they now took the fuckin' top position
Yeah I’m a weird old head, don’t need y’all to tell me twice
But y’all can get jacked like a Martin Shkreli price
See I’m the wrong rapper to fuck wit and then aggravate
'Cause the only time that you bust it: when ya masturbate
And meanwhile these rappers stink with their mumblin’
Putting their shit up for free, not making good fuckin' sense
Y’all muhfuckers recycle the same plastic
Not saying I hate a clean Earth, but I hate that shit
You can’t be on par with me if you ain’t bustin’ dude on beat
Since ya crackers drop n-bombs, then fuckin’ do not speak
Ya overload ya Auto-Tune 'cause you hate how trash ya are
I’ll take these rappers lacking bars and shove ‘em in a cattle car
And gas ‘em all, this for the culture, while y’all some perpetrators
On my Arnie shit, I got the bars to terminate ya
You talk about fake shit 'cause ya life is sure a lie
That’s what happens when the suburbs combine
Soda and technology and think it’s worth a try
You get a slurring high robot with all its circuits fried
Only reason why these kids like you, they just wannabes
And I don’t connect with them 'cause I don’t relate to fuckery
You ain’t boolin', only time you see blood's when ya menstruate
You bitch made, mind sharp as a dull switchblade
I’m sonnin' ya, ya fuckin' done, ain’t coming close to number one
Bunch of punks, suck a dick, get fuckin' hit from a sucker punch
To the cunts that said I fell off fast, bitch the hell with that
You better recognize the king of the ‘Del is back

[Hook]
This ain’t a game you wanna try now
Don’t try to play around, I don’t like clowns
Step back and put the mic down
Or your ass might just get wiped out

[Bridge]
Step back and put the mic down
Step back and put the mic down
Step back and put the mic down
Step back and get out right now

[Verse 3]
And these bitches actin' like they’re better than me
Yet a verse of mine tops what they ever can be
Now you might think that this a bunch of pointless shit talkin’
Nah I’m talkin’ ‘bout the bitch I destroyed on Misfortune
You know you’re lyrical trash, that’s why you’re bitchin' on snap
Gotta show off like you’re great to hide ya insecure ass
What you talkin’ ‘bout, I can’t get a hard dick, what a fag
You still soft with no effort put into ya craft
I’m pest control bitch, getting rid of the rats
Said you a scholar and a rapper, go and spit a real rap
Yeah I remember that time I thought we finna collab
Thought you’d fit on the track, but realized ya shit was just whack
You salty I called you Papa Doc, yet you did not respond
Thanks for makin' my line more valid on the song
It’s like you can’t even score 'cause you’re missing the point
This shit is just harder than fucking hit in the groin
Come on, you can’t run Jerz if you just run from me
Tryna convince people that I’m done, bitch please
Tellin' me to pull up, bitch pull up ya pampers first
Whinin' like you’re the biggest baby on planet Earth
Well I mean a punchline from you hits like a baby’s fist
Yeah hate me bitch, you a whack swag rap miscellaneous
Shit, you don’t care for the craft, only tryna make it commercial
Who am I kiddin', I’m beefin' with Franklin the Turtle

[Hook]
This ain’t a game you wanna try now
Don’t try to play around, I don’t like clowns
Step back and put the mic down
Or your ass might just get wiped out

[Bridge]
Step back and put the mic down
Step back and put the mic down
Step back and put the mic down
Step back and get out right now

[Outro]
Yeah, get mad at Therz, the baddest wordsmith, the rappin' nerd
Grab ya purse, get ya pen and pad and work, you craft the worst
Get a thing called talent, oh ya haven't heard?
This battler just got you retards massacred
Bitch!