look, im not to be fucked wit, like 4 year olds wit they daddy's pills//
so that makes me ya pops, whoopin ya ass? i gladly will//
you should chill, cuz you couldnt drop a cold rhyme if you lived in Alaska//
but couldnt spit no hot shit if you was eatin turds, dipped in tobasca//
yeah you gonna win, right afta, i get serious and take you out wit my raps//
cast hooks that snag ya, throw punches and knock ya to bitchslapped//
the south on the map, mahfucka i seen where you from, 10 steps buv me?//
normally i dont eat cats, but this pussy here gettin me hungry//
all this talk is buggin me, so ima close ya case like a trunk a toys//
here's a theory, when lookin for kaos.......... holla at kuntryboi//