Dixie's kickin a blank profile, hopin his size will get em by...
But comin up short on truth, cuz that shit above ya avy's a lie.
Kid's firing blanks, his own low standards aren't even a fit...
Shootin ta be bottom of the barrell, and still can't achieve it.
Dix future’s bleak, he’s about as bright as Alaska in December…
So he’s fallin behind in life, and still eatin turkey in November.
What's with the avy? A self portrait, ya chubby bastard?
Guess it ain't rhymin but eatin, that this kid has mastered.
That's why peeps clap, when Dix gets anywhere near...
But it ain't applause, bitch, it's hands over eyes and ears!
Ya even fucked up being a fuck up, not that anyone cares...
Dix ain't a perfect idiot, but he's works hard at gettin there.
So come on with ya bitch name, only the first one's a match...
I'm throwin deep inta the heart of Dixie, so here's a blade: catch!

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Merkings will occur Monday thru Friday, 8 am thru 5 pm, C.S.T.
For my convenience, not yours!