The destiny of this dynasty soldier is up in smoke,
like cheech and chong i drop a bomb that causes u to choke,
patience is a vitue but prewrittin is a sin,the cheap pokes begin,
tell me to spit first so u can refine ur verse,rehearse n choke again
the only way u will be ill is to open ur perse n disperse a pill,
you couldn't beat me if you used hand lotion cuz winnins in my will
you speak of fire and ice,but your punchs don't even leave a chill,
you could hire Simion Rice and still not own any skill,
till is a geographic term to define left over dirt,
like your talent cuz i raped you like u didn't wear a skirt,
You pal!bent over with a strap on in your ass,Must hurt!
your rhymes are polite,you must have idolised Bernie and Eart.