Bullseye Video (MV)

Call me the Diamond Dallas Page of Rap
I hit you with the Diamond Cutter face straight to the mat
Humiliate him, then I'm making him tap
I take you to the underworld, but y'all ain't making it back
I'm here to punish lames, f*ck making the charts
Welcome to the underground, we saving the art
Bullseye, I'm throwing darts straight at your heart
These rappers built up all they lies, I'm bout to take them apart
Ain't got a full hand, but the ace is a start
All them secrets that you holding, they won't stay in the dark, no
Fake streams and fake cash and fake views
Chasing fake dreams, you're all worse than fake news
So grab a seat and sit tight because I'm taking over
I see your vision and shit, but now I'm painting over
I could hold the weight of the world upon my aching shoulders
My rhymes dope like Perico mixed with baking soda
Bullseye, direct hit, don't miss
But how many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
Bullseye, direct hit, don't miss
But how many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
Yo, we facing off against a juggernaut
The heat I speak will melt you all, y'all are butter soft
Your whole existence, it aint nothing but another loss
Your daddy could have saved us the pain for what a rubber cost
I'm a dog without a leash and now to muzzle off
Put a flame to the spoon, the water bubble off
Won't ever sacrifice my morals to become a boss
I'm about to teach the truth to the youth without no summers off
Wise words, let the genie speak
By All Means Necessary B.D.P
These artists putting me to sleep, they music CBD
Watch your mouth before I punch you in it T.D.E
I see them starting to hate, well y'all can stay coping
I dress these dorky rappers down and do it plain spoken
I light em up on a track like I was chain smoking
Left him dead, head leaking, with his brain open
Bullseye, direct hit, don't miss
But how many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
Bullseye, direct hit, don't miss
But how many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
I got raw talent
With gargantuan balls as large as small planets
I make em all panic. And I ain't stopping till it's
Marble floors, all gold doors and the walls granite
It's called magic when I write a verse
You alive one moment, then the next you inside a hearse
Where'd you find your little raps deep inside your purse?
These rappers pussy better hope I never find em first
I use the mic just like a Mack truck
Get the f*ck up outta my way, or homie back up
You and all your little friends could never stack up
Lyrically I'm always packing heat, I keep a Mac tucked
Your raps suck, I ain't apologizing ass butt
You think you blowing over TikToks and CapCut?
Not only do you need skills, dawg, you lack guts
Just put the mic down, your homies got you gassed up
Bullseye, direct hit, don't miss
But how many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
Bullseye, direct hit, don't miss
But how many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed
How many emcees must get dissed