yo yo check,
u talk alotta shit u must think u gonna win//
i beat white-ice's ass and ur the next of kin//

its u that ill slay ur the one ill kill//
what u bitch haha i dont envy ur skill//
u love wood so much we call u "tha human mill"//

all we here from u is shyt like fiddle faddlle//
i already won but im gonna stretch the b-a-t-t-l-e//
i think maybe im to much for u to handle//
i got more vocab like i juts beat u in scrabble//

keeep tlkin ur shyt like about cutting my neck//
bitch u kno ull get wrecked//
yea im mexican so lay down and have respect//
ur punches are like a capgun,in-no-way do they effect//
i won this battle so u can already cut my check//
i kno about ur girl, walkin round lookin like shes shrek//
your rymes are old no where near "hight tek"//
from a little bitch like u what can people expect?//

u aint scary, u act like u straight from hell//
the truth is that from this ryme u cant rebel//
ur shyt is weak and ur a bitch if u cant tell//

i crushed your back with my lyrical ryme//
but imma keep going till i crush your spine//
u think your a gangster so ill be like barky and take a bite out crime//
ur balls havnt even dropped yet how old are u kid? nine?//