This is what I call Lyrical Boxin...............

Oh shit he's got writer's block......... watch his mind start Clutterin//
Only reason they call him Triple N....... cause he can't stop Stutterin//
This cat's from New York City........ Probably lives in the Trump Towers//
You'd have thought I'd severed off his limbs........ wit the way I Stump Cowards//
Gay ass has wood on his brain........... like he was just Struck Wit Lumber//
He's got 10 losses already............... and eleven's my Lucky Number//
Title says light weight............ But I'll easily Beat This Rookie//
Sig's flippin birds wit it's toungue out......... Must be used to Eatin Pussy//
Eatin up his sweet ass rhymes.......... only way of sendin me to The Dentist//
Easily I Trump this cat........... Not even worthy to be my Apprentice//
You better hurry up and spit............. The voters might Skip You By//
This cat's still searchin for lyrics......... while I'm postin a Quick Reply//
Less than 30 mins........... just like my Call Out Said//
Triple N turned into a Sweater.......... as soon as he Saw The Thread//

__________________