My Blurted-Spits, Immerse-ya-Bitch, In an Earth-Filled-Ditch while I Traverse-the-Pit
Adversely-Sick, I Coerce-this-Kid, To Disperse-his-Wig when his Nerves-go-Twitch
Ya Personals Arent ‘Makin-Contact’ Like Retired ‘Baseball Vets’, You Aint-Hittin
Mayne-Listen…Snatch Ya ‘Necklace’, Brain-Twitchin Now Cuz Ya Chain-Missin!!! *
impression? My Storm Swarms ya World, Beat you over the Head with Broken-Boards
Snatch ya Spits Straight From-ya-Throat and Choke ya with your Own-Vocal-Chords
I'm Depleting ya Frame,Don't mean problems with Stationary when I say my Ink-will-Run
And the Battle's like Shady and Christian Women, Ya chance of Winning is Slim-to-Nun
this bitch ain't Gangsta, Question if i Carry-Tools, Not aware that I Bury-Fools
yung Beating murdz? No Way 'You are not A-Loud' Just like 'Following Library-Rules"
face it yung You Nervous-Kid Jus A Worthless-Bitch Tryna To Get Into Sum Circuit-Shit
Spittin That Hurtful-Shit And Notice He Couldn’t Have A ‘Hot Hand’ Witta Thermal-Grip!!!

* necklace - neckless!