*sick beat starts*
Yuh, yuh, ayy.
Quick to deploy, quick to cloak,
They using phantoms like they never gon' choke
They ain't no boogieman...
Yeah they ain't broke
But I got a couple gripes just out of spite
Gonna em' spit out now while my bars are ripe
Three hull two shields, it ain't no match...
For the wedge I wield...
So take a step back
When you drop the cloak and try to shoot
1 agility cause' of wedge
You got the boot!
You wanna cloak? You got no shot
And imma drop those phantoms like flys
Like I drop bars this hot
And Imma race through the skies,
With my T-65s
Wedge, luke, Lando
You won't survive
I know lando ain't flying no X-wing
But he lets his other two bros
Cut through phantoms like X-rays
You brought phantoms to a tourney?
We'll boot you back to armada
Cause we got that metagame rage
And we gonna dish out hot karma
Your phantoms are like essential oils
And we're like big pharma
When one guy sees em' he'll sound the alarma
Oh, how cute
You got four copies of juke
Let's see how that goes
When you shoot my boy luke
Yeah my bars are more fire
Then a console fire crit
All it takes is one bad roll
And a sigma's cockpit is lit
(Though still not as hot as the bars that I spit)
I see that evade action
It won't get you much traction
When you spend it on defence
You don't get good offense
I mean, just take a focus,
All it is is common sense!
I see such foolishness
And It makes me wince.
I don't think there's much more
I can do to convince
That you need to swap out ya phantoms
For an actually f****** list
