Aiight.
The only "prime cuts" you got have fuckin' stitches,
as if you got ripped on by some mad as hell bitches,
when you came out and came clean about the syphilis
after dickin' them with all two of your angry inches.
You sit at home drawin' targets on your Kleenex.
You suck so much that you've lost the gag reflex.
And you know? I think I found your weakness.
Four words, yo. You just lack eliteness.
Lookie, this bitch couldn't put together a multi
if he had a fuckin' stapler and a whole roll of duct tape.
You step to the mic and think you're spittin' ill shit,
but like God to all the Christians, your punches are elusive.
I'm the new shit. I'll fuck you right up in your cranium.
You couldn't deliver a hard rap if yo knuckles was titanium.
Peace.