Rich House Reviews Diss

[Intro: DNA Tru Lyricist & Rich House Reviews]
You might learn when my ears burn lazer beams to the back of your skull
And I'm cracking your bowl
Knock, knock, two bitches-
Why the fuck is it always a former drug addict white boy rappin’ on my goddamn show?
Attention all former drug addict white boys, stop
God damnit
Y'all always coming on the show with a weird-ass name and you did drugs back in the day and you reformed now
That don't mean "go rap", goddamn it
Fuckin’ white boys be pissing me the fuck off with this bullshit
If you gon' rap, rap, nigga
We don't need to know you did drugs back in the day and now you're reformed and now you're back in this society, motherfucker
Nigga got every motherfuckin' white boy's story in one, right here
You 'bout to tell us about no struggle, white privilege, never had to go through anything, but you’re gonna ask us for sympathy
If you think he’s gonna ask us for sympathy, write "sympathy" in the comments
DNA Tru Lyricist, shut your bitch ass up
Nigga, you had this song your whole motherfuckin' time
It’s my time, nigga, it's our time, nigga
We don't want to hear your fuckin' opinion
Fuck your opinion, we hear for our opinion, nigga
If you think he’s sucking a little black dick on this one, guys, just put "BB" in the comments for "black balls"
'Cause you are sucking a little black dick on this one, buddy
Come on, we know
You're sucking a little black culture on this one
You wanna get solidified in black culture so bad, don't you? (You wanna talk about the culture?)
Don't you? (Motherfucker, I am the culture)
We know you wanna use the n-word sometimes, you just want to use it once (fuck the n-word)
We know, sorry, white boy, we're not gonna accept you (this is Tru Lyiricst shit, bitch)
I'm cracking this shit off, you're wasting our fucking time

[Verse]
Rich House
Saw your channel and thought "let me go and bless him
Let the lyricist from Texas drop some bars that'll impress him
Let me bring something new and fresh to the ears of all his listeners"
Never expected the disrespect from this dude, calling me "mr former drug addict"
Saying I recovered and now I wanna rap
Stereotyping white rappers with your small-minded crap
Saying I ain't got no talent, and I want acceptance in your culture
But I hope you're ready, motherfucker, you done crossed the line, it's game over
Sayin' no one out there wants to listen to DNA (oh really?)
While you sit and pout your lips out at the camera, looking gay
Tryna say that I'm on drugs while you sit there, rolling weed
You must be fuckin' nuts, so here's my fuckin' nuts, hold these
'Cause you ain't acting right when you hear someone that's rapping tight
Check your sight, you's a bitch, dawg, you only see in black and white
Like a fucking phone filter, color tilted in the mind
Learn to respect my rhymes, 'cause you getting killed by every line
Yet all your racist ass has got to say is that I'm still white (ight)
Bitch, fuck a mic, I'll come and check your fuckin' ass in real life
Rich House Reviews, you ain't reviewing shit, you fuckin' thieve the bread
I'll come and rob your ass back and take my bread and leave you dead (bitch)
You fuckin' punk-ass bitch, take it easy on your soundboard
I came to your channel to help you out 'cause, to me, you sounded bored
I came to give your listeners some new lyricism to jam
But once you knew that I was white, your racist shit hit the fan (damn)
I ain't no fuckin' stan, man, you fuckin' can't understand
All you see is white like the hair of the Village of the Damned
Look in my eyes, you getting hypnotized, now fuckin' kill yourself
The real has dealt you a hand that you can't pretend you can prevail with
No self-accountability, your mind is malnourished
Let the lyrical hell flourish whether print, braile, or cursive
It's documented in hieroglyphics, pyroelectric exhibits
This ain't no mimic on your culture, this is the final prolific
Mind full of mystic, Final Destination, spines getting split
With every rhyme that was written, leaving Richie crying and bitching
You think I want acceptance? Motherfucker, suck my fuckin' dick
You must be sick, talking shit to the Tru Lyricist
It's DNA, bitch, I'll beat your bitch-ass on the mic or real life
Make you think twice, yeah, you gon' think that someone killed the lights
Lights out, Richie, this is it, like beep beep, Richie
Drag you to the sewer, now you're walkin' knee-deep, Richie
Fuck Rich House, now you up in my house, Richie
We all float down here, Richie, time to die now, Richie
I'm the killer and you're an ordinary clown-ass, Richie
I said, fuck Rich House, sit your ass down, ass Richie
With your culture and race issues what I found, ass Richie
Let me straighten that shit out, where's your town, ass Richie?
Where can you be found, ass Richie? I'll be hunting you down, ass Richie
Put you on the ground, ass Richie, after the first round, ass Richie
What you got to say now, ass Richie? While I'm laying it down, ass Richie
I'm getting up under your skin like scabies, where's your itchy-ass now, ass Richie?
See, you done pissed me off, Richie, now I'm bombing on your ass
I'll bring a [?] viper lazer, now you're Warner Brothers ash
Wile E. Coyote dust, you better honor what I rap
Or get ass-raped, cooked, and ate, I'm going Dahmer on your ass
Your ass is nothing, you no-rapping motherfucker, ain't got a clue
You oughta move 'cause all I'm known to fuckin' do is slaughter dudes
Like, who are you? You ain't got a fuckin' clue about the rap game
Talking about the culture, bitch, I am the culture, get a brain
You fuckin' lame-ass, no brain-ass, staying in the '60s, never change-ass
[?]
You scumbag shitstain-stained ass
Plain-ass mind state, came back with the same-ass wack statements
Cracking white-black-ass statements while I write rap fact-ass statements
Got your black casket laying in the black hatchback, waiting
Welcome to your own death, the lyrical gat's back spraying
Bitch, the white like New Haven, you might like how I'm behaving
With all your white-black-ass bullshit that you always love to be saying
You racist fuck stick, fuck Rich House Reviews, I leave you dusted
You ain't got reviews, you got racist bigotry, I'm the real you can't fuck with
You got concealed in the dust jacket of the lyricist's mind
Thinking you was gon' make off with twenty dollars of mine?
Read the description, bitch, it's twenty dollars for one full song
Yet you didn't play sixty seconds, boy, you knew you was wrong
You didn't want a dope white emcee showing out on your channel
Now your coffin is surrounded by twenty-two white candles
One candle for every year I dedicated to the craft
And since it's 2023, here's another for your ass
Twenty-three, I'm the fuckin' Michael Jordan of the rap shit
Tongue hanging out the mouth, dunking tracks on your ass, bitch
You wack-ass bitch, I slap you like the bitch that you are
Put a knife to your throat and tell your ass to get in the car
And we ain't going far, nah, you ain't got time to roll that marijuana
I'm going right around the block to drop your ass off on the corner
Where you belong, ho, now stand there and make my money
Say my name and give me promotion like you think it's funny
Without a doubt, I'm the dopest that you ever had on your shit
I guess it's back to that new age singing swag-ass shit
Anything below a five is getting dunked in the trash?
I guess you didn't know when you finally found a diamond at last
Just goes to show that you can't recognize talent when you see it
This my first track of 2023, bow down and believe it
A fuckin' single and it's going up on all the damn sites
And it's gonna remain there forever, motherfucker, damn right
Apple Music, Spotify, iTunes, and YouTube
We all tube, the DNA Tru Lyricist is too Tru
Without the E, motherfucker, 'cause the E is for extra
How you is acting with that fake disrespect with no texture
No taste, no embrace, no realness in you at all
But what can I expect from these new age cats like you? You're all salty as fuck
When a real emcee comes to buck you up
You can run, you can hide, you can shy away and duck
But you know what the fuck's up, I lay it down right
Rich House Reviews, a capping thieving-ass racist, say goodnight, motherfucker

[Outro: DNA Tru Lyricist & Rich House Reviews]
Tru shit
Fuckin' racist-ass bigot bitch
You fuckin' falsified-ass thieving capping-ass channel
This is Tru Lyricist shit
You wanna talk about the culture? I am the fuckin' culture, motherfucker, it's me
R-I-fuckin'-P, bitch
You will always remember me
Alright, if you don't wanna wait in line, you should be paying to jump the line
You're not gonna beg to me, how am I a thief? You a thief too
You a thief, nigga, you stealing from my culture, nigga
You a thief too, you a thief, nigga, you a goofy-ass white boy
You think by telling everybody you did thirty-five albums that you a part of my culture, nigga?
Stop stealing from my culture, nigga, stop stealing from my culture, please bro
That's all I'm saying, stop stealing from my culture, bro
And the culture's not black, it's white, it's every race
But you're not in it, bro
Stop stealing from our culture, that's all I'm asking you to do
You calling me a thief, you stole from the whole culture tryna act you like a real artist
You're stealing, you're not a real artist
Fuck outta here, nigga
And, like I said, that's the end of that
You don't like that? Get the fuck off my show, goofy boy