tearz beat opens
funeral singing starts and ends.

your raps to me, are 50's musicals, old and worn out, as witches crusibles/
ya name's smile, the shit ain't suitable, ya won't be smilin when this ya funural/


scared of me i don't wannab havin to shout, all i wanna do is battle it out/
winnin over me, that's a capital doubt, you the dead guy pac n face was rappin about/

this bitch gon choke, when he hit in da rib, i make ill multis, like tripplet kids/
momma diss in ya sig, i got missiles for pigs, i make sharp shots, not a brissle get's skid/

this a world war, so yo fuck a riot, your battleverse'll get's dubbed in silence/
you'll lose your phatness, yo chubby, quiet, I'll make you lightweight, like a subway diet/
i'll hex your career and your litter verse wit no witty words, i'm spitting curse/
wreck your burial sending a spinning herse, rip your face off and wipe it on a hippie shirt/