R - A - C - Seven - H - E - L
You can Google my ass, or you can hit up my cell
I hear you haters sayin’ I don’ know how to spell
But that’s just as well, you can’t
Tell me what to do, I won’t listen to you!
What you sayin’ ain’t true and I’m through wit’ chu.
You nosy little whiners all dyin’ to know, “What’s the
point of that seven? What’s the meaning, yo?”
Well I barely remember, it was so long ago.
But I know...
That sh*tty answer ain’t enough to satisfy y’all
Cause you lookin’ at my name like you hit a brick wall
When you get to the “ch” you just stutter and stall
And you all
Wanna aks me, wit’ your nosy little nose,
“Why’s it in the middle? Why is that where it goes?
It could work at the beginning, or the end f’sho.”
You wonder what it’s doin’ there,
It ruins the flow
And you can’t read my name cause you’re too damn slow!
But ya know...
It’s funny when your ass gets hit by the door
When you slip on my wet floor
And you’re missin’ my metaphor
I’m laughin’ cause that’s what
The 7 was meant for
I laughed when you stuttered
And you slipped and you fell
Cause there’s no effin’ way to pronounce what I spell
I’m just Rack-Seven-Hell
And if that doesn’t ring a bell
Then oh well.