Told ya neck I was battlin ya and it was like 'snap!'
You a fake emcee made up of whackness and crap
Your call stated that you'd waste any who replied
Your anutha kid from Cali, but I doubt your rep West Side
Like a drive-by with spit balls, your rap brings no force
You a wannbe textee, from writin ya voice gets hoarse
My punches all connect, while you gave a decent try
But you must be in the Airforce son, ya punches did fly-bys
Nothin you threw hit and ya verse is completly played
The best punch ya ever threw was..uh...your..um.gay