Gather round, i got a lil story to tell
About a fat fuck, now stuck in a jail cell
I took ya daughter, and now ya stupid coin store
Keep steppin to me, and ya gonna lose more
Who wants to bet, this old attention whore
Gets his loins a tinglin, at the Ralphamale roar
When he finds the time, to bring his schedule to a stops
That schedule being, playing with his funko pops
Ol' busy bee, keeps wasting all the courts time
But soon wont have to his name, a mother fucking dime
Ever since ol' Harry, showed him up by gettin it done
Lard butt here, starin down the barrel of a gun
Couple of months, and Harry got in his shot
Couple of years, and Vickers still has not
Runs his mouth, though its clear to tell
Mere mention of my name, gives him a faintin spell
Crazy i know, but its in his court filing
When I read that shit, i couldnt stop smiling
He even tried to talk shit about my eyes
When one of his is sneaking off lookin for guys
Nigga I got mine from fightin portugal 2
You got yours from diabetes type 2
Ya lil sissyboy filings, claimin all ya pain
Shows only that this wordsmiths pen can maim
Twilight years, wasted whining in court
But no matter how hard ya try, cant abort the retort
So whats its gonna be
Mister, sits down to pee?
Thinking you'll end, this Ralphamale tale
Cause as far as i know, there aint been no bell