My rhymes twist limbs like the exorcist kid...
newbie innocence won't help ya after you're dead and livid//
I find the name killa played out... and wasteful like filler,
even if the yo rhymes slid backward, they couldn't be a 'thriller'//
fill me on yo skillz... you're like a John Doe fo real,
I'll still cut yo arse up...discard ya like orange peel//

I know you...
just masturbated...
keyboard sticky...
but RB on favourites,
years now ya missed sunshine...you always online//
but besides a quick wrist ya need skillz, wit and shit,
advertise yo rhymes on google and still won't get a hit//
noobs wanna dive in the rap game, get drowned, leave no ripple,
gettin swallowed up ya sink lower than yo momma's third nipple//
while I cause tremors, coerce thunder...mcs and buildings go assunder,
I grant your sins forgiven... while you're praying fo my blunder//
its a wonder if you'll bother to answer my shots that kill and smother,
you might just go to another battle, being a real 'Progressive' customer//
(the insurance company)
I bust on ya, trust mih, this will be costin ya big,
hit ya up like Tupac, tho no homies...nothing//
caught back in two minds...whether to beat you or to merc you,
don't look so sad son...will hurt me more than it will hurt you//
so I end findin this punk guilty in da fake mc trial,
I sentence u to bitchin and askin yourself "Why"?

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