Check diss, fool!

20 years and already ya rhymes are old,
Who the fuk is Eki that he should be so bould.
He's tripping on me like obsticles in his path,
I should be calling Dr Dre to clean up my aftermath.
Your played out with no weight your the one who's light,
Your breathless already an all you've had to do is write?
EKI he aint EVIL, he aint KOOL, he's INSECURE,
and unfortunately for you for wackness theres no cure.
If there was an abort button ya mumma shoud of pushed it,
It would of saved me the hastle of executing a bitch.
12 lines of your design, characteristically bare,
You wanna battle again just call my name and i'll be there!

12 lines like you.....