I take it back maybe yo should write longer flow
I could post a better spit out the left sida my nose

yall think you can rap, but all you really talkin is crap
yo rappin aint got game,
it puts yo mamma to a shame

monosyllabic thug with no real vocab//
i put you on a slab go back to lyrical rehab

you know why i picked for this battle right? Cuz i know ur going down like Jenna Jameson on her wedding night//

the realitys glaring and pure/ my rhymes make you look foolish, like i was spittin a caricature

Like McDonalds my rhymes are tasy
Whats that shit on your hand.ewww its pasty

you always runnin ya mouth,talkin bout guns,only nine you got is money, a five an four ones

your flow dumb, like yo girl tounge, mistakin my rifle for my gun

all this talk about guns but you aint even seen one//
my rhymes weigh a ton yours is "featherweight" son

yo rhymes way a ton so dat makes you sluggish/you keep bumpin yo gums and i'll shatter ya teeth and turn em ta rubbish

like i was a beavers dam ill redirect your flow/
fuck your ho and cause your creep to slow/

i bend strokes to tha tempo, u missin tha snare,
rhythm impaired, i knocked but ya skill wasnt there...

closest u b to an MC is at McDonalds

they must of dismissed tha evidence, however prevalent,
tha fact, that u an ass crack have met an became friends...

My spits like a cobra one quess whos God, I'll tell ya not jahova

NOT EVEN CHRIST/IVE DONE RESEARCH AN STARTED TO HOLLA/ALL MY STUDYS LEAD TO DIS ONE CALLED ALLAH
DONT SWEAT/ IM NOT MOSLEM NOT YET/

WHEN IN FOCUS I NOTICE I CAN MAKE MAY MIND BEND, EXTEND
FEROCIOUS BLOWS TO YOUR SCLEROSIS IN MULTIPLE OF TEN

This guy will neva b ill,, like the bubble boy catchin a flu
in fact u haven't had pussy since pussy had u

it dont matta u could hate, dont read my flow//
u could tell u gay, u probaly fuck more niggas than jlo//

there yo go talkin them thangs you don't know, mad cuz you cant get a job, i mean blow

you get ass raped so much,you forgot who you fuckin with//
noone wants to listen to you...ya colons in ya throat,all you talk is shit....


ha...

there you go again straigh bumpin them gums all I gotta do is start pumpin them guns

I bring a new definition to spittn' since birth/
I had a mic in my hand my first day on this earth/

i smash beats with the speed of a track athlete..
destroying rappers so fast a mclaren (264.6mph) can't even match me..

these guys even know what a punchline is?

i'll swing an axe at your centre parting, get your face bashed in/
nows thats a spliting headache, better reach for asprin/
spray gore like texas chainsaws to make your brain sore/
and sew feet to your chin so you can run your mouth way more/

rip your spine and fingers off to play the xylophone off your bones

to make it rhyme.........

rip your spine and fingers off to play the xylophone off your bones
and dive my hand in ur body using the heart as a microphone

"You baby emcees drink pedialyte, while underground doesnt like you, the media might"

-J5

your raps got les legs than a quadropalegic, like a lobotomy that removes all thing cerebric

haha it's crazy ya drums wit no ear, cause im pocken at yall pussy's like im given pac smears

I use my time wisely killing rappers in the matrix/
You need to talk to morpheous so you can learn the basics/

Your girl asks, "Wheres the cream filling", I said in the twinkie,
I yelled,"Open your mouth hoe", here comes Mister Winkie

Like Blunt Compassess-Asking Whos BEtter-Theres No Point,
By Me Smoking Your Herb-Is The Only Way You Be A Hot Joint.

Retreat back to your cell and yell murder and rape, this is mine to take, another piece of a cake//
I got this kid down on his knees, like the obese on diets, who've gained faith in their weight//

Your style is played out and your words are a superfluity of garbage.
I strike ya and put bullets through ya head till ya more fucked up than a prison guard's bitch.

when i unleash my power im full with rage destroy beats and towers
your bull is gay, i'll teach you coward and show how a beast devoured....

yup... im great, lol, i think

i place-ya-life,on the line and make it stay-the-night//
stab and replace-the-nife,im the hottest one to grace-a-mic//
sence saten recorded-a-track,wasn't ill till i afforded-an-ax//

Punchline
 

I juss need an itchy finger and words to murk yah crew cuz i got more bombs then Iraqi Troops/

You must be the president cause your George's Bush,
Cause the closest you've been to a pussy is when the doc told your mom to push

Your rhymes is loose and really wack,
I bet you carry tampons in your fanny pack