[Verse: Bob Hill]
Yo, I’m Bob Hill, King of the Hill's spawn,
Texan in my blood, propane flows strong.
I don't know you, that’s my purse, son,
Throwin’ punches harder than a grill runnin' on.
Meg, you’re the butt of every joke, a punchline,
Family’s got you boxed, left out on the sideline.
Griffin, step back, you're barely worth my spit,
Pocket sand in your face, now you're out, quit.
[Verse: Meg Griffin]
Yo, Bob, you're soft, like propane fumes,
I'm sharp like Stewie's wit, I’m clearin’ the room.
Griffin name rings, you a backyard dud,
I’m the underdog champ, crawlin’ out the mud.
Your "that’s my purse" line? That’s your best?
I’ll roast you on the grill, propane at your chest.
You’re a mama’s boy clown, can’t step to this,
I’ll leave you faceless, cartoon abyss.
[Chorus]
I don’t know you, that’s my purse!
Throwin’ bars, spittin’ verse.
Cartoon clash, universe,
Who’s gon' last? Who’s cursed?
I don’t know you, that’s my purse!
Step to me, you’ll get worse.
Cartoon legends, unrehearsed,
Rap battle? Who’s dispersed?