Bling Here we go again, prepare to meet your end
Just looked you up on Facebook, you have zero friends
This kid's a loser yo, he ain't even kissed a girl
You write her love letters I buy her ice and pearls
So how you like me now?
Even Roxanne's in the background saying 'Wow, Bling's got style'
I'm off the gold chain
If you're a rapper why is Kris your backup dancer like an extra on soul train
''''' I see your mommy and your daddy in the front row
They must be embarrassed for you bro You’re not a real MC You should quit hip hop Now be a good bus boy and go get your mop
Cyrus: Bling, you don’t wanna battle You’re the snake without the rattle You’re the boat without the paddle You’re the duck without the waddle You’re the horse without the saddle The ranch without the cattle The day without the shadow Son, I think you should skedaddle Kick gravel, sayonara punk arrivederci What language do I have to say it in for you to hear me clearly Adios amigo, you’re over with finito This clown couldn’t rap anything but my burrito
Bling: Kid, you have to hold your mommy’s hand before you cross the street You have to sneak out the house just to clean and sweep And now you look queasy I made him go mute Put your camera phones up so you can post this on youtube Truth’s got a screw loose, he’s terrified to bus So lightweight that I could blow him over with a gust You’re weak like seven days, you deserve boos You should walk around in some high heel shoes, ha You should rock pigtails and a skirt You’re shaking in your boots, are your feelings getting hurt Ooh well, maybe I should hurt more than your feelings Maybe I should rip the roof off the theater ceiling Maybe you should start kneeling his eyes are getting misty Your so whack if you were me you couldn’t diss me Kissy kissy Roxanne did you miss me I’ll take you out to dinner after I’ve eaten this pip squeak And when were on vacation I’ll let him house sit Here’s a couple bucks buy yourself a better outfit
Cyrus: You know what? You don’t have a stack of cash you’re a flashy pad I saw you last week driving the taxi cab Your secrets out, and now they know sport We’ll call you if we need a ride to an airport In fact, you can drop me off at home after this Then you can take your couple bucks back, but as a tip You’re playing yourself like solitaire Telling everyone that’s here that you’re a millionaire You’re not a baller, you’re a phony I bet your whole crew is a bunch of rent-a-homies And now you lie in bed lonely Your persona’s a façade The only girls you get are in the pages of a catalogue Here stands lord of the bluff His lies were legendary til the truth made him hush And what’s funny is your truth is enough Why’d you have to make up all the money and the stuff I guess it’s easier to play the role and act hard Cuz you don’t have the guts to tell us who you really are So you can keep a trophy that you don’t deserve I might be a busboy But you just got served!