I been told my rhymes are too weak and I don't know how to peak my shit/
So I'ma take my old record an seep it dry to defeat it/
Normally I would've taken the shit you spit and ripped the shit outa it/
But I thought to save myself the bother, I'd diffuse some of me on the scale of ricter/
I'm simply just a lyrical depicter, a crude pain inflicter/
On ya shoulder like the assasins that are quick ta hit ya/
Your pussy ass punches ain't nothin but lunches to me/
I eat 'em up and coinsedently, I learn from them an then count to three/
Then poetically and indecently, I try make myself better for you to agree/
That you ain't nothin when compared to me/
Ya structures weak and ya rhymes don't flow/
Usually you spit ya shit too slow, an without ya halo there to glow, you got nowhere to go/
I'ma make you stuck in the place called Limbo, cos you can't go toe ta toe with someone on top of tha show/
I'm spittin jus ta let ya know, Keep goin the way ur goin and I'll cut off ya angela davis afro/
an sell it on the black market to some broke ass ho's, that ya try ta pimp/
But you jus end up with a limp, cos they made fun of ya shrimp/
I'm done with this now so take a hold of ya gimp/
Cos in the end, if ya spit some weak shit all its gona do is stint/

__________________
-=This ain't a game!=-
-=It's a way of life!=-