Okay, here we go...


Who you think you is kid? Go back to your garage band "Linkin Bizkit"
You nervous, can't drop ya ish as if you got your sphincter twisted
Now you already got dissed quick, but see, you blinked and missed it
Now you'll say my lines are crap, 'cause you know I ink the shiznit,
Eat sleep and drink linguistics; you started rhymin' last Fall
You're like, "I can't drop my verse yet! I'm in class, y'all!"
I keep time with brass balls, swingin' *click-clack* while I rip tracks
Smackin' wick-wack little pricks back with a fist to the six-pack
Or is it "one-pack" in your case? How many gun racks in your place?
You prolly a tobacco-chewin' cracker, your dumb rap's in poor taste
So hope comeback's ya forte, 'cause otherwise you're oh - for - one
I got a thousand cans of kick-ass, and I've only opened one....SON.


*shrug* Aiight, that was so-so. You can do better than this, right? Come back and show us whatcha got.