bloodshot?...i'll stick cigerettes in ya eyes until ya bloods hot...
u wud not...move from the screen, obsessed n now ya bloods clot...
someone remove his mic's duracel...this lasting pain may hurt a cell...
ur real names damion, i can tell...cos u must be made from the semon in hell...
cud neva make the cut like a mid-wife nervous round blood...
only in the hood...wen i bury u in my garden beneath the mud...
turn ur back to my face n you'll find ur vertibrae moved n out of place...
re-arrange at pace...make u an 'idol' like simon with a high waist...
ur lifes a buffet of mistakes...but bitch this takes the cake...
u know ur fake...i'll help you get it off ya 'chest' like justin timberlake...(janet incident)

__________________