captain's log, star date...
ah fuck it...

so you wanna battle me, killah b-boy/
youre more spaced out, than Lennard Neemoy/
i'm gonna fuck you're next verse up, before i even see it/
you're hearse is gonna be filled up, before you get too see it/
unlike you i don't write words down, i release them... i free them... i be them/

i don't even try, when i drop a rhyme, i'm relaxin' and chilin'/
smokin' dourbon, drinkin' bourbon, till i get leather skin/
leather lungs to match it, a chainsaw an a hatchett/
death is a disease, an you're gonna catch it/
then i'll bitch slap you up, til yo heart stops/
then whose gonna call the cops?...