Fuck your shrimp social Sundays 
And your fried fish Fridays 
How many waterways
did you dam? 
Just to put in your byways?

And anyways if you take a lick 
to looking at it my way
Youd realize in a spiders eyes
It don’t matter what the fly says

Don’t come at me sideways
Don’t come at me stressin
I’ll put yo dick in the dirt
I really test out your testes 

I wouldn’t test me 
Nah. Motherfucker. 
I wouldnt recommend it
I’ll take a blurry dick pic 
Your mom 
will beg me to send it 
And I might be with it
I might make you 
my step kid
Your mom calling me daddy
You call me Uncle arachnid

Look what your new dad did
Granting all your mamas wishes
I’ll heat you, flip you, eat you
Quicker than you pussy catfishes

This goes out to the bougie. 
This go out to the pretentious. 
Listen very closely 
It might make a difference. 
Those riding high horses 
Those riding fences. 
Please listen closely
Fuck yo shit.  
I'm thick-built, a culinary master
A kitchen Og
Snickers tried to make a snack thicker than me. 

Get in the trenches
Arm to arm brother to brother
Ya. I’m built like pork chops
I’ll use my gravy to smother

And cover you like hashbrowns
Bringing up boils and heinous hot spots
Leave your face feeling quite hot
sunburned like southern hot sauce 

What’s the final cost?
Been rhyming since primary 
Once you figure in the taxes
The totality is scary

This goes out to the bougie. 
This go out to the pretentious. 
Listen very closely 
It might make a difference. 
Those riding high horses 
Those riding fences. 
Please listen closely
Fuck yo shit.  

I’ll helium y’all’s  heinies 
I’ll get you high off your asses
Spitting cold honey
Must be slower than molasses 

Running down a snowy mountain 
the way that I choose to spit 
It takes me about three minutes 
 just to say some stupid shit

It’s pretty legit Though
the way that I rhyme
I’m better thanyour crackhead uncle
I stay face deep in these lines. 

I think it’s time. Let me hit that inhaler. 
Let me take a breath again
Imma let the beat take over 
And the chorus finna come in

This goes out to the bougie. 
This go out to the pretentious. 
Listen very closely 
It might make a difference. 
Those riding high horses 
Those riding fences. 
Please listen closely
Fuck yo shit.

F*ck Yo Sh*t

It’s going to be okay but it’s going to be different. 
You catch his gaze but the gaze is distant. 
Self made. Glazed over eyes lacking wisdom. 
Dumber than Brock Turner blaming his victim. 
Retract your fangs. You squirting hot venom. 
Go murder your masters and tell the devil I sent em
Start a reaction chain. Make ‘em know who hit ‘em. 
Fuck up your face. Scars make winners. 
I’m ready for a break down. 
I’m ready for a rush. 
I’m ready to feel feelings. 
I want you to make me blush. 
I’m ready for the countdown 
3…2…1. 
Don’t load a fucking bullet 
If you ain’t ready for a gun. 
And you ain’t ready
You ain’t ready son
Don’t load a fucking bullet
If you ain’t ready for a gun. 



I hate your fucking face. Let’s talk about it. 
Don’t believe in shit you can’t be without it. 
Don’t go to bed mad or leave them doubting 
I want to see you face to face without the shouting. 

Can we stop right here? Give a little space on the subject. 
Don’t bring private shit out in the public. 
If you don’t start none, it won’t be nothing. 
I gave you what you needed even if it leaves you wanting


I heard what you said online. 
But despite your worst wishes I’m doing just fine. 
There is one thing though that haunts me.  
The fact that you told them I was a monster. 
You see?
I did everything thing for you
Every meal you ate I cooked for you
And I seasoned it with my love for you
Now look at you feeling brand new
I’m sorry that you didn’t appreciate
Every sock washed. Every clean plate. 
Every cuddle spent with care
Every time I played with your snake filled hair
Now it’s been some time 
Since you ran away
With my moms money
You found you a place 
But it’s on the lower level 
I expect you will go further down 
Until you crash into hell
Devil yo

You should dig some more
Just a bit deeper
Let your shovel find the core
Hell has my favorite people. 
But you aren’t one of them
Not now not ever
You think it’s hot now
Check out hells weather. 



You Ain't Ready

I’m a published,spoken word poet of over 3 decades looking for someone to pair with to rap together. I tend to specialize in depressive lyrics with a niche for marginalized groups such as the alphabet mafia, autism, and indigenous peoples. I am a novice at making beats.

You Ain't Ready

Uncle Spydie

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