just cuz you're from florida, that don't make you hot,
your rhymes flow a little less than blood through a clot,

you get lost in my verbal abilities, isn't it a-maze-ing,
they have your eyes attched to the screen glazing,

your verse wouldn't be complex if you wrote in matricies,
it must be hard to think in 98 fucken degrees,

there is only one way you could be wanted for this shit,
stand in a police station, scream real loud and unload a full clip,

I'm spittin punches, like an 8th grader who can't handle alcahol,
you can't beat me, but you claim i'm coming to a down-ward fall,

~peace~


*he is from florida-hot
*down-ward fall-he says my rhymes are fadin'
*98 degrees-hot in florida