I rush this fuckin newb with witty lines that tower his verse
Rhymes only run clean and smooth when I shower ur words
I try a little yes, but you beat yourself like in the middle of sex
Spit on ya quest, rip on his fasion cuz I see this kid in a dress
I think your confused, you told me that you wanted the win
The drink u refused, allowed me to make your head do a spin
My punchlines hit so hard they put the pressure on like crunchtime
Your left in dier straights and my guesture is always to jumplines
Wishin for sick with a fisherman's Stix, this a walk thru the river is thick
I deliver it quick hit ya liver wit bricks, there now I left you literlly sick

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