My style is consistantly coherent, I know how to spit/
I read ya verse 3 or maybe 4 times over an it still dont mean shit/
I don't need arms to throw punches, I work shit lyrically/
I'd take heed to ya shit but your empty threats don't even reach me/
You speak of masturbatin while ya wrists flappin like a hummin bird/
You the michael jackson peter pan an give it up the ass for the curd/
Be sure to never be in a room when u fart, u be fillin the floor with cum/
From dick ridin the other emcees from where you come from, Place unknown/
Lookin for lyrics from a crew who don't wanna know you cos you're whack/
Take it up the ass then recieve one in the back of ya throat like a baseball-bat/
Whipe the white from ya lips before you start tryin to talk to me intelegently/
The words in ya name, but I'm yet to notice any sign of ya intellect collectively/
Sittin at home playin with dildo's and instead of titties, sniff girl pubes an sneeze/
Fuck pussy, to you nothin compares to givin a sack of balls a real good squeeze/
Gay jokes are like ya verses, they lame an usually retarded like u got downs syndrome/
At the end of this shit you be on the street while I be ridin past you with 20" chrome/

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-=This ain't a game!=-
-=It's a way of life!=-