This bitch nigga stay talkin' bout how niggas he been through//
He nothin' more than a 2 bit faggot that see's more dick than condoms do//
Punkass bitch, u softer than cookie dough, they should call u betty crocker//
Tryin' to act hard on the cpu, knowin' damn well u nothin' but a Kmart shopper//
Your whole style is weak, that verse u dropped at best is bleak//
All ya punches were meek, throughout the whole verse they play'd hide an go seek//
I'm exposin' ya verse as wack, cuz I'm throwin punches wit arms bigger than shaq's//
Give up rap, cuz fans don't take kindly to white boyz that think wearing fitted caps make'em black//
I look at you wit disgust, cuz u must quit rhymin', u spit so much bullshit that it dried an crust//
I mean trust, if you continue pump ya self up wit more hot air u gon' spontaneously combust//
Your rhymes I can't take, their blan an preplanned, an I demand they be canned//
Cuz u fake, here's a suggestion, jus take a seat an figure out where you stand//
For rap u have no nack, your complete crap, jus for thinkin' u hot u need to be beaten wit a strap//
You trapped, cuz I exposed as a fake, now get outta my face wit ya backpack raps//
You thought you was the man, you just a lillte boy tryin' to stand tall//
Work on ya rhymes, before u walk u crawl, cuz u so small, standin' strait up I'm still slappin' u in the face wit my balls//

Hold That!!!^^^^

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