My Daily 16 Bars: 66

I just wanna spend a stack on ya//
Lay you down and throw cash on ya//
Naw, I'm lying. I just wanna break the back on ha(her)//
Damn girl, you got a ass on ya//
Jerome Bettis the pussy, let me tackle ya//
See the whip and blinging chain, let me master ya//
Front seat, back seat, balcony, I put it down//
Baby if you let me, I'll hit it like chris brown//
Can't breath, you gasping, no air//
Playing with your pussy at the bar, no hair//
I fuck like I got a hemi//
For testicles and I'm running off Remy//
No semi, I'm the prince of zemunda//
Packing something big enough to rule ya, get the ruler//
See, your man don't measure up//
I push back organs, be in your gut//

My Daily 16 Bars: Day 65

C "dot", the west coast spit kicker//
Bow down and kiss my converse you boot licker//
Best coast, contro versy, I'm on it//
Your time in the spotlight shorter than the green hornet//
Bastard of the industry, rap game's orphan//
You the reason hip hop should've had an abortion//
I'm here for the whole pie, I'm sharing no portions//
Been ill with a pen since before they cut my foreskin//
Lyrically I'm a giant, your a fucking munchkin//
I'm not jamaican but rewind and Launch it//
I'm a stone cold nut, I don't give 2 fucks//
I sit on the front of the bus during black history month//
That was random but it makes sense//
If you don't get it, you brainless, skulls vacant//
Time wasting, thinking you can get with me//
Have a easier time trynna make halle unpretty//

My Daily 16 bars: Day 64

You still rhyming bout coke, where the pies at//,
Always talking bout your strap, where the 9's at./
Wait, nevermind that//
You probably be the nigga on dvd's//
Pulling, flashing your burna, but never squeeze//
I be sitting back laughing thinking nigga please//
My fam calls me papa, ur mom calls me papi//
I demand respect//
With or without a tec//
Yea, u blinging, 1 snatch will leave you without a neck//
I'm ruthless, rose covered tooths//
You versus Versy guaranteed that you loosing//
I'm what the game gets when it upgrades//
Trynna lyrics to a pent house view//
My detractors be like who the fuck is this cat//
I'm nobody, just a gentleman gangsta who can rap//

My Daily 16 Bars: Day 63

Shout DJ Wes for that boom boom bap//
Every I spit is a bullet, my throat goes clap//
Test me I'll pull it, every verse is a clip//
Addicted and over dosing on the flow, I'm sick//
You now rocking with the Best Coast CEO//
Songs bake em holla, im bout my dolla's like cleflo//
Bad for your favorite rappers health like espestos//
True emcee, im one of the few of those//
I treat every beat like its the super bowl//
I be in more girls mouth than bazooka joe//
You'll never meet somebody more gentlemen gangsta//
Rob you for your shit then thank ya, u wanksta//
My poetry is mean but my back hand is meaner//
It takes 2 blunts to change my demeanor//
Your baby daddy don't like me at all//
He keep hating, he gone end up in my version of saw//
With no pig mask, these artist is so ass//
I'm the shit, they can't even pass gas//

My Daily 16 Bars: Day 62

I'm from the bottoms bottom, nobody thought I'd make it out/
My visions been blinded with doubt//
They can't see that I'm a leader in training//
Still ahead of my time, my peers don't stand adjacent//
Don't know when it happened but rappers being bitches//
Making songs for pussy they can put they face in it//
He caking//
I'm jason//
Not chasing//
Just appear right behind her ass//
No machete, just a palm full of her ass//
And she likes the way I hold her//
Face down, ass up, that's how she's supposed ta//
Be...I'm CV//
Translated in any language K-I-N-G//
Ruler of all that I survey//
Problem is, the old west is standing in the way//
They don't want to see the young boy prosper//
So hate on me they gotta//
They full of hot air, my times here//
With a buzz like an earthquake everyday of the year//
Yea...the kid you can bet your last dolla on//
I've always been me, you busy trynna be a clone//
I can't tell, are you Jay, Game or Souljah boy//
Whatever it is not convincing, I see through all your ploys//
When your songs over, I dance and jump for joy//
Cuz the mixtape you just played was boring boy//
West west wit it, c dot baby//
Who better than me, yea right, you crazy//
I'm an enigma, that new shit, a hybrid//
You can call me jada def or mos kiss//
Most labels can kiss my ass//
Its like divorce wit no prenup, they want half//
Publishing, royalties and masters//
Only thing missing is the whip and chain masta//
I'm past that, labe deal, scratch that//
When its all said and done, you'll be driving a hatch back//
I don't wanna have to worry about dumbing my songs down//
If you don't catch a line, I'm getting my own rebounds//
The hood needs something it can relate to//
Newcomer, stunting ass rapper, that ain't you//
They wonder how can I speak out and be so brave//
Shiiiit, im just the ghetto trapped in a sound wave//
You can call me speaker boxx c dot//
I'mma walking mega blaster, playing what they not//
Its broken, they stuck on repeat//
I got old school playa swag like the bee gees//
And I don't mean baby gangstas//
I mean them 3 member, night fever singers//

My Daily 16 Bars: Day 61

I feel rejuvenated//
Your crew is hating, they overrated//
You don't understand what you facing//
You can't escape it//
Be cool 'fore I squeeze the tool//
Your blood 'll ooze//
Grew up the opposite of smooth//
I'mma goon//
I'm so wrong, don't know how to live right//
Pops used to light up the night with his crack pipe//
Lighter fickerin', they bickering', I'm sick again//
I'm sitting here, thinking bout slitting my wrist again//
Nobody cares, nobody gon stop me//
Im punching wholes in the wall, feeling like Rocky//
You know your childhood ain't good when you wanna die//
Watching television really wishing I could trade lives//
Write psalms to help my mom to help my mom but she don't get it tho//
I'm all alone drowning my soul in oregano//
But I ain't talking bout the season//
From cali, smoke green with no stick or seeds in//
When I became a man, I put away childish things//
But still call my house my crib, ain't that a shame//

My Daily 16 Bars: Day 60

C "dot" baby, don't act like you know me//
With or without the ice, I move so coldly//
I roll solo for dolo, my own Co-d//
My flow sick, just OD'd on Codine//
I lean...a lil to the left//
Like virgin pussy, delivery tight to def//
Never has something this real been felt//
I write fire ti the tip of my pen melts//
This flow not god given, I'm no christian//
I follow Islam, the flow the bomb, its ticking//
I'm here to reroute your whole main frame//
I am the west coast, without me there's no gain//
And naw, I ain't trynna diss Game//
But middle finger him too if he in my lane//
Tell the DJ pull back my verse//
Ya gurl sucks my pull back til it squirts//
I'm not them so they not better than me//
Most important letters in the alphabet, C-V//