Won't Stop
Copywrite Lyrics

Models and dimes, ugly hoes follow inside
I'm surrounded by attractive women, but also have unattractive ones trailing behind.

Proud of my dick and mad chicks swallow my pride
I'm confident in my sexual prowess and women are willing to do anything for me.

Getting head jobs from strippers
I receive oral sex from exotic dancers.

Twisted off the eggnog and liquor, a big dog like Clifford
I'm intoxicated and feeling like a powerful figure, like the fictional dog Clifford.

Melt gimmicks every time I spit
My rhymes destroy gimmicks and are authentic.

With rhymes like crowds in health clinics cause every line is sick
My rhymes are so powerful and contagious that they affect everyone who hears them, like an illness in a crowded health clinic.

I squeeze clips at each clique
I aim and shoot at any group that I don't like.

To see how they deal with heat when I put them under arms like speed stick
I'm testing their ability to handle pressure and tension, like putting on deodorant.

Please bitch, with metal to your frame
I'm threatening someone with a weapon, most likely a gun.

I rep the C. O. nonstop, it's the first two letters of my name
I represent my city, Columbus, Ohio, and the initials C. O. represent the first two letters of my name.

Competitors are slain by this intelligent gunner
My competition is defeated by my intellectual and strategic ability.

Quick to pop the trunk like an elephant hunter
I'm immediately ready for attack, like an elephant hunter pulling out their weapon from their trunk.

And you might be upset, your dad and I got something in common
I might be dating someone's mother and comparing myself to their father.

Your mom kissing both our babies right before bed
Your mother is giving both of us goodbye kisses before bed, as we are both her partners.

And like me or not, bitch I'm 'bout to light me a spliff
I don't care if you like me, I'm going to smoke marijuana anyway.

So any shit you got to spit I'll more than likely forget
Your insults or criticisms won't affect me and I'll forget them quickly.

I talk a lot of shit cause I know a lot of shit
I'm confident in my knowledge and ability to speak arrogantly.

Your bitch comes to my show to swallow a lot of dick
Women come to my performances to engage in sexual activity with me.

So which idiot should I shit on?
I'm deciding between two people to insult or ridicule.

The one that spit on the mic or his friend who convinced him to get on?
I'm trying to decide who is to blame for a poor performance: the person who rapped or their friend who encouraged them to do so.

You spit your best shit on everybody's mix tape
You shared your best music on other people's compilations or projects.

Now for your album you're left with shit you wrote in sixth grade
You only have poor quality material left for your own album, possibly from when you were younger.

That's why I don't rhyme on mix tapes
I don't want to waste my good material on other people's projects.

I mix hate and science and spit straight sick shit your bitch hates
I combine negative emotions and intellectual concepts in my music, which your partner dislikes.

On Tower I admit rape
I confess to committing rape on a track titled 'Tower.'

And it was well worth the gas and the switchblade it took to get laid
I believe the effort I put into committing rape was worth the reward of sexual gratification.

Plus your girl looks like a great fuck
I find your partner sexually appealing.

But that's only from the face down and the waist up
I'm only attracted to their body from the neck to the waist, not their face.

And I got eight sluts, one for each day I wake up
I have eight different women for one every day of the week.

Plus an extra for the morning I die laying face up
I have one additional partner for the day I die and am laying on my back.

I'll pull you out your truck, get slammed up the dash
I'll physically assault or overpower someone in their car.

For rhyming like you got your hands and fists crammed up your ass
I'll attack someone who is rapping poorly or embarrassingly, as if they have their hands and fists stuck up their own ass.

Pull out the thirty-eight, hold it to the crowd
I'll brandish a .38 caliber gun in front of an audience.

And leave every critic's body that dissed me 'Holier Than Thou'
I will metaphorically kill or defeat anyone who has criticized me, making them seem self-righteous or hypocritical.

Extinguish the hottest emcee's match
I'll defeat the most talented rapper, making their success disappear in a similar way to extinguishing a flame.

When I cuff the mic at twelve decibels I still get positive feedback
Even when I rap poorly, people still respond positively to my music.

Saw your one blunt and that dirty ain't worth the buy
I saw your subpar marijuana and don't think it's worth purchasing.

Raw and uncut like Eddie Murphy uncircumcised
My music is unfiltered and honest, like Eddie Murphy's uncircumcised penis.

When copyright's on tour stop and hide your whore
When I'm performing on tour, hide your partner to avoid them engaging in sexual activity with me.

Certified thief, alarms go off when I walk inside the store
I have a reputation for stealing and cause alarms to sound when I enter a store.

O. H. ten, been repping the state
I represent the state of Ohio, specifically Columbus.

From the second I stepped on the stage till I'm dead in a grave
I've been performing in Ohio since I started and will continue until I die.

And got a buzz but my head isn't shaved
I have gained popularity or attention, even though I haven't made a significant change to my appearance.

'Get the leaves and doja', sick of being sober and my medicine's haze
I need marijuana to help with my addiction and mental state, specifically a type called 'doja.'

Veteran praise? and I don't write for the wealth
People recognize my talent and experience, but I don't write music for financial gain.

I'll stage my own death, come back and ghost write for myself
I'll fake my own death and return to ghostwrite music under a different name.

Your dis backs weren't able to help
Your insults didn't have an impact on me or my music.

Me and RJ's like slip mats, ??? ????? turntables were felt
My friend RJ and I work well together, like slip mats on turntables.

Now pray for yourselves, still opponents lost a spar again
My competition continues to lose when they battle against me.

I can't be faded like a homeless Rastafarian
My talent and success cannot be diminished or unrecognized, like a homeless Rastafarian's cultural identity.

Before I rock the booth I need lots of loot
I require a lot of money or wealth before I record music or perform.

Got it coming together like Siamese prostitutes
All the aspects of my life or music are being united or harmonized, like conjoined prostitutes.